Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. Take care of the old clothesman, and leave the rest to me. Bullding,” she declared.
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