A little higher up a vendor of cheap ices had set
up his store and was rapidly absorbing all the pennies of the
neighborhood. Esther and Sarah turned into a dilapidated court, where a
hag argued the price of trotters with a family leaning one over the other
out of a second-floor window. This was the block in which Sarah had lived.
A space had been cleared by the builder, and the other side was shut in by
the great wall of the old theatre.
"That's where we used to live," said Sarah, pointing up to the third
floor. "I fancy our house will soon come down. When I see the old place it
all comes back to me. I remember pawning a dress over the way in the lane;
they would only lend me a shilling on it. And you see that shop--the
shutters is up, it being Sunday; it is a sort of butcher's, cheap meat,
livers and lights, trotters, and such-like. I bought a bullock's heart
there, and stewed it down with some potatoes; we did enjoy it, I can tell
you."
Sarah talked so eagerly of herself that Esther had not the heart to
interrupt her. They made their way out into Catherine Street, and then to
Endell Street, and then going round to St. Giles' Church, they plunged
into the labyrinth of Soho.
"I'm afraid I'm tiring you. I don't see what interest all this can be to
you."
"We've known each other a long time.
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