Mrs.
Quarles started at the noise, looked up the chimney, under the bed, tried the doors and windows, and actually went so near the mark as to turn the handle of the shower-bath; "Drat it," said she, "Sarah must ha' took away the key: well, there can't be nothing there but cloaks, that's one comfort." Last of all, a thought struck her--it must have been a mouse at the preserves.

And Mrs.Quarles forthwith opened the important cupboard, where Jennings now well knew the idol of his heart was shrined.

Then another thought struck Mrs.Quarles, though probably no unusual one, and she seemed to have mounted on a chair, and to be bringing down some elevated piece of crockery.

Simon could see nothing with his eyes, but his ears made up for them: if ever Dr.Elliotson produced clairvoyance in the sisters Okey, the same sharpened apprehensions ministered to the inner man of Simon Jennings through the instrumental magnet of his inordinately covetous desires.

Therefore, though his retina bore no picture of the scene, the feelers of his mind went forth, informing him of every thing that happened.
Down came a Narbonne honey-pot--Simon saw that first, and it was as the lamp of Aladdin in his eyes: then the bladder was whipped off, and the crock set open on the table.