CHAPTER CI.
TODD MAKES HIMSELF QUITE AT HOME IN BELL-YARD.
“i***t!” said Todd, as he spurned the insensible form of Mrs. Stag with his foot. “i***t! I would kill you, but that it would not do me any good. The narcotic you have taken in the gin may or may not carry you off for all I care. It don’t matter to me one straw.”
He glared around him for a few moments with the fierceness of an ogre, and then walking to the shop-door, he deliberately locked and bolted it, so that no one could get in, even if they were expiring for a pie.
“Humph,” he said. “This is a time of day when it is not likely the shop will be troubled with many customers. It is between the batches, I know, so I am safe for an hour; and during that time if I do not make some discoveries here, it will surely be my own fault
