The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 347: what you’re looking at

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

“Ready for what?” said Todd. “To go to—to—the brimstone beds, if you please, sir. I haven’t done half enough yet.” “Pho!” said Todd. “My good woman, you don’t surely take me for the devil? I am an old friend of Mrs. Lovett’s, and a neighbour. I have just stepped in to ask her how she does to-day.” Mrs. Stag drew a long breath of relief as she said— “Well, really, sir, I begs your parding. It must have been the pane of glass that—that—that 7 “Threw my face out of shape a little,” said Todd, making one of his most hideous contortions, and finishing it off with a loud “Ha!” Mrs. Stag nearly fell off her chair. But it was not Todd’s wish to frighten her, although he had, in the hilarity of his heart, yielded, like Lord Brougham, to the speculative fun of the moment. He now tried to reassure her. “Don’t be at all alarmed at me, madam,” he said. “Mrs. Lovett laughs often at my little funny ways. Is she at home?” Todd knew what sort of home he had provided Mrs. Lovett with, and this visit to Bell Yard was one partly of curiosity and partly of triumph, to ascertain how she had left things in her absence from her establishment. “No, sir,” said Mrs. Stag, replying to the question of Todd; “she is not at home, sir.” “Dear me, I thought she was always in at this time of the day. When, madam, do you expect her?” “Leastways,” said Mrs. Stag, “I don’t know, sir.” “Were you here, madam, when she left home?” “Yes, I were.” “Oh, and did she leave any message, madam, in case Mr. Todd from Fleet Street should call? Pray recollect yourself, my dear madam, as it may possibly be important. I do not say that it is, but it may be.” “No, sir,” replied Mrs. Stag; “oh dear, no. All she said was, that she was going to a christening.” “A christening? Ha! She has been christened!” “Sir!” “T only said she had been christened, and no stint of the water, that was all, madam; but I perfectly understand you. Mrs. Lovett has gone to the christening of some one of those sweet little innocents, all perfume and flabbiness, that take one’s heart completely by storm. Ah, my dear madam, when one looks at the slumbering infant, how one feels an irresistible desire to smother it.” “Lor’, sir!” |» “With soft kisses, my dear madam. Only fancy me now a baby Todd made so awful a contortion of visage contingent upon this supposition that poor Mrs. Stag, in the nervous condition which the whole adventure had thrown her into, nearly fainted right away. Indeed, the only thing that recovered her was hearing her visitor say— “T am really very thirsty to-day. How do you feel, madam?” These were delightful words. “Oh, sir,” she said, “how very odd. I am thirsty likewise.” “Well, that is remarkable.” said Todd. “Now, my dear madam, I don’t make a common thing of saying as much to anybody, but you, who are a lady evidently of refined taste and intellectual capabilities, I am sure, will understand me, and make allowances for my feelings when I say that I prefer to anything else—gin!” “You don’t mean it, sir?” “Indeed, but I do.” “Oh, how could I mistake you for anything but a very nice man indeed, and a perfect gentleman. It’s one of the most singular things in all the world, but I never do hardly take anything, yet what I do take is—is , “Cin, Mrs. Stag nodded and smiled faintly. “Well, my dear madam, I don’t see why we should not have a drop while I wait for Mrs. Lovett. Don’t you trouble yourself, my dear madam. Now really do not. I know that you will like to have to say to that good, delightful, Mrs. Lovett, that you have not left the shop since she was absent; I will get it. They will lend me a bottle, and I have capacious pockets.” 39 “But for you, sir, to Todd was gone. “Well, really, he is a very nice sort of conversable man,” said Mrs. Stag to herself, “when you come to know him, and he ain’t near so ugly as he looks after all. I do hope Mrs. Lovett won’t trouble herself to come home for the next half hour, since Mr. Todd has been so good as to call and to make himself so very agreeable about the—the gin.” Todd went into Fleet Street for the gin, and he returned by the dark archway leading into Bell Yard. It was darker then than it is now, and in the deepness of an ancient doorway, he paused to drop into the gin—not a deadly poison—but such a potion as he knew would soon wrap up the senses of Mrs. Lovett’s substitute in oblivion. This narcotic he took from a small phial he had in his breast-pocket. He did not say anything, but he gave one laugh, and then he walked on to the pie-shop, where he was eagerly and warmly welcomed by Mrs. Stag, who very assiduously placed a chair for him, saying, as she did so, that Mrs. Lovett would quite stare if she were to pop in just then, and see them enjoying themselves, in a manner of speaking, in so delightful a manner. CORniclooo S CO)