My aunt, who had this other general opinion in reference to London, that every man she saw was a pickpocket, gave me her purse to carry for her, which had ten guineas in it and some silver.
We made a pause at the toy shop in Fleet Street, to see the giants of Saint Dunstan's strike upon the bells--we had timed our going, so as to catch them at it, at twelve o'clock--and then went on towards Ludgate Hill, and St.Paul's Churchyard.

We were crossing to the former place, when I found that my aunt greatly accelerated her speed, and looked frightened.

I observed, at the same time, that a lowering ill-dressed man who had stopped and stared at us in passing, a little before, was coming so close after us as to brush against her.
'Trot! My dear Trot!' cried my aunt, in a terrified whisper, and pressing my arm.

'I don't know what I am to do.' 'Don't be alarmed,' said I.'There's nothing to be afraid of.

Step into a shop, and I'll soon get rid of this fellow.' 'No, no, child!' she returned.