The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. E. “Our marriage must be annulled. Cahill gave me a hall pass. You won't refuse me, I'm sure; so no more need be said about the matter. It shall be done as you direct. She will cry for days and nights together. Earles?” he inquired. "Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure.
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