"I'll give it to him," said the beadle. "Come along with me, my
dear. I think I told you you were a good girl at the inquest--if
I didn't, I tell you so now. I'll give it to him! Come along with
me."
And he went out, striding on with his cocked hat and his great
cane, and I followed him.
"Landlord!" he cries, the moment he gets into the passage, with a
thump of his cane on the floor, "landlord!" with a look all round
him as if he was King of England calling to a beast, "come out!"
The moment the landlord came out and saw who it was, his eye
fixed on the cocked hat, and he turned as pale as ashes.
"How dare you frighten this poor girl?" says the beadle. "How
dare you bully her at this sorrowful time with threatening to do
what you know you can't do? How dare you be a cowardly, bullying,
braggadocio of an unmanly landlord? Don't talk to me: I won't
hear you. I'll pull you up, sir. If you say another word to the
young woman, I'll pull you up before the authorities of this
metropolitan parish. I've had my eye on you, and the authorities
have had their eye on you, and the rector has had his eye on you.
We don't like the look of your small shop round the corner; we
don't like the look of some of the customers who deal at it; we
don't like disorderly characters; and we don't by any manner of
means like you.
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