" As he said this, the carpenter patted the cheek of the little object of his benevolent professions, and, in so doing, unintentionally aroused him from his slumbers. The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. “Well!” she declared good-humouredly. “You will go and see her,” he begged. ’ ‘Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he were,’ agreed Pottiswick’s daughter.
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