I consented. Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. The halls are on the lookout for something new. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. "Mercy on us! Well, I thought their manners quite out o' the common. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers.
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