" "He'll scarcely need a plaister," replied Mrs. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. I saw her come out from the flat buildings two minutes before we entered it last night. Not up here, I think. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. “I was sent for to go to the Hospital St. . " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint.
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