Well! she WAS a cheerful little thing; and had a quaint, bright
quietness about her that was infinitely pleasant. Surely she was the
best sauce for chops ever invented. The potatoes seemed to take a
pleasure in sending up their grateful steam before her; the froth upon
the pint of porter pouted to attract her notice. But it was all in vain.
She saw nothing but Tom. Tom was the first and last thing in the world.
As she sat opposite to Tom at supper, fingering one of Tom's pet tunes
upon the table-cloth, and smiling in his face, he had never been so
happy in his life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
SECRET SERVICE
In walking from the city with his sentimental friend, Tom Pinch had
looked into the face, and brushed against the threadbare sleeve, of Mr
Nadgett, man of mystery to the Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and
Life Assurance Company. Mr Nadgett naturally passed away from Tom's
remembrance as he passed out of his view; for he didn't know him, and
had never heard his name.
As there are a vast number of people in the huge metropolis of England
who rise up every morning not knowing where their heads will rest at
night, so there are a multitude who shooting arrows over houses as their
daily business, never know on whom they fall.
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