Speak, sister, speak.

Pretty Polly say.

Oh tell me when, and tell me where, pray Marchioness, I beseech you!' Unable to resist these fervent adjurations, which Richard Swiveller poured out as passionately as if they had been of the most solemn and tremendous nature, his companion spoke thus: 'Well! Before I run away, I used to sleep in the kitchen--where we played cards, you know.

Miss Sally used to keep the key of the kitchen door in her pocket, and she always come down at night to take away the candle and rake out the fire.

When she had done that, she left me to go to bed in the dark, locked the door on the outside, put the key in her pocket again, and kept me locked up till she come down in the morning--very early I can tell you--and let me out.