"I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. " "Ha!" exclaimed Jonathan, with a sudden vehemence that electrified the chief turnkey; "what's this! a spike gone! 'Sdeath! the women, you say, have been here. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. Again he rushed.
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