'Stop till I come back.

I sha'n't be long.' Dick nodded, and followed Miss Brass--with his eyes to the door, and with his ears to a little back parlour, where she and her brother took their meals.
'Now,' said Dick, walking up and down with his hands in his pockets, 'I'd give something--if I had it--to know how they use that child, and where they keep her.

My mother must have been a very inquisitive woman; I have no doubt I'm marked with a note of interrogation somewhere.

My feelings I smother, but thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my--upon my word,' said Mr Swiveller, checking himself and falling thoughtfully into the client's chair, 'I should like to know how they use her!' After running on, in this way, for some time, Mr Swiveller softly opened the office door, with the intention of darting across the street for a glass of the mild porter.

At that moment he caught a parting glimpse of the brown head-dress of Miss Brass flitting down the kitchen stairs.