Every one of the Deadman ladies who was
at her door--and they were generally at their doors in the daytime--
vigilantly watched him. He went straight through the Rents to the
Common, whereupon Mrs. Wiggins, who supported herself by the sale of
firewood, jam, pickles, and peppermints, was particularly disturbed and
was obliged to go over to the "Kicking Donkey," partly to communicate
what she had seen and partly to ward off by half a quartern of rum the
sinking which always threatened her when she was in any way agitated.
When he reached the common it struck him that for the first time in his
life he had gone a roundabout way to escape being seen. Some people
naturally take to side-streets; he, on the contrary, preferred the High
Street; it was his quarter-deck and he paraded it like a captain. "Was
he doing wrong?" he said to himself. Certainly not; he desired a little
intelligent conversation and there was no need to tell everybody what he
wanted. It was unfortunate, nevertheless, that it was necessary to go
through Deadman's Rents in order to get it.
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