The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 259: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

33 “Certainly, sir. If you will sit down and allow me to measure your head, I shall have great pleasure—Charley “Yes, Sir.” “You can go to Lovett’s, in Bell Yard, and get your dinner now. There’s two-pence for you, my lad, and if you have not yet tasted Mrs. Lovett’s pies, you will say when you do, that they are the most delicious things in the whole world of cookery.” “Shaved, if you please,” said another man, walking into the shop, and pouncing down upon a chair as though it were his own property. “Ah dear me, I’m tired, rather. Don’t hurry yourself, Mr. Todd, I can wait while you are doing what you have to do for that gentleman.” “Charley,” said Todd, with quite a sweet expression of face. “You need not go just yet, I want the hot water. See to it.” “Yes, sir.” Todd then, in the most careful and business-like manner, proceeded to take the measure of the gentleman’s head for a “real head of hair,” and when he had finished, he said— “Now, sir, if you will leave it all to me, I will match your hair to a shade.” “Match it?” “Yes, sir.” “But that’s just what I don’t want. I have had my hair all cut off, and am going to wear a wig, for the sole reason that I have got tired of the old colour.” “Well then, sir, what colour do you propose now?” “A few shades lighter than my own. But pray shave this gentleman, and I will tell you how I wish it to look at my leisure.” The man took a seat and crossed one leg over the other with the most home sort of look in the world; and the one who had come in to be shaved plumped into the shaving chair, and gave his chin a rub as though he would say “I don’t care how soon you begin.” Todd smiled. “Charley, the lather.” “Yes, sir. Here it is.” “Here, my little man,” said the gentleman in want of a wig. “If you can tie a bow, just make one in front of my cravat.—A small 33 one. The gentleman slipped a small piece of paper into Johanna’s jacket pocket. Q9O9O0OOOO GOnMGoIOO <5) CO)