“What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. “I want to lay all my life at your feet. I dare say it will be chattered about for weeks. “You are unjust and quixotic, Anna, you have no right to treat any one as you are treating me. ” Lucy said, watching people mechanically pump quarters into the till. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. I know now that I was mistaken.
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