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

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“I can’t get at it without wetting myself through. Give him something another time. It doesn’t do to place any reliance upon what boys of his sort say. Do come, or we shall be left behind. Come, Anna Maria.”

“Now, ma’am, look sharp, please,” bawled the conductor. “Jump in, ladies, if you’re going.”

The door of the omnibus was held impatiently open.

The ladies ascended the steps and took their seats in the vehicle, which was driven rapidly down the Strand.

The poor birds’ nest seller was again disappointed this time. He had hoped to extract a small sum from his female questioner.

“Ah!” he ejaculated, “I’m very unfortunate, that’s what I am, I have been so the whole of this blessed day.”

It was still raining, and he was drenched to the skin. His feet were sore with walking, and every bone in his body ached.

He was sick at heart—​felt fairly worn out. It was no use his waiting any longer in the streets—​there was no one to buy, and nobody seemed disposed to give him alms.

Hunger was gnawing at his very vitals. He was supremely wretched—​more miserable than he ever remembered to have been.