Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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Bristow furnishes us with a sad example of this pernicious and fatal propensity.

He had become an incorrigible and irreclaimable inebriate.

He returned after a debauch of some hours’ duration to his miserable lodgings at Bradford.

He had spent what little money he had about him. This it was that caused him to leave the pot-house and bend his steps homewards.

As a rule he seldom came back till past midnight.

His industrious little wife, who worked for the trade, was plying her needle and thread when her husband entered.

“What, John!” she ejaculated, in a tone of surprise; “you’re early.”

“Am I?” he ejaculated, flinging himself into a chair. “S’pose I am—​what of that? I’m not wanted—​is that it?”

It was very evident from his tone of voice, as well as his manner, that he was in a quarrelsome mood.

His wife made no reply, but kept on with her work.

“You’re a deal too good for me—​you are,” he muttered. “Pity you threw yourself away upon me.”

Still no reply.

“D’yer hear what I am sayin’?” shouted out the ruffian, in a louder tone.