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

757 страница из 895

“An’ aint he good-looking? He’s a little too good for missus. What’s his business?”

“Something in the City, I believe.” This answer was given at random—​something in the City is such an indefinite term.

Mr. Wrench again took up his position.

For eight consecutive nights he went through the same formula.

He was getting a little tired of the painful monotony of his task, which, up to the present time, had been a thankless and fruitless one.

On the ninth night, about half-past two o’clock in the morning, which, to say the truth, sounds a good deal like a bull, for how can it be night if it is morning? But, of course, the reader will understand we are speaking figuratively.

About half-past two, or it might be a little later, Mr. Wrench pricked up his ears. He heard the sound of a key turning the lock of what he supposed to be the outer door. He was assured of this upon hearing the door gently closed.

Then soft footsteps were audible in the passage, and the little flap of the counter was thrown back. A man passed through and came behind the bar, then all was silent for the space of a few seconds.