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Updated: June 25, 2025
Mary Axe, part of Leadenhall Street, part of Lime Street, Billiter Lane and Square, part of Mark Lane, Fenchurch Street, and Crutchedfriars. The public buildings in this ward are the African House, the Navy Office, Bricklayers' Hall, the churches of St. Catherine Creechurch, St. James's, Duke's Place, St. Andrew Undershaft, St. Catherine Coleman, and the Jews' Synagogues.
He would recite the interview in the Billiter Street chambers with his employer, passing rapidly over the preliminary parts until he came to the REWARD. No! he was not false enough or euphemistic enough to call it a reward; he would regard it as a bribe. But he could never get further.
Sometimes he was lucky enough to win a pound or two on a race, and that was his only means of support. The children were ragged; Letty tried to live on tea and bread, but the lack of food soon brought her low, and from sheer weakness she became a pitiful slattern. Mr. Billiter was informed that a woman "like a beggar" wanted to see him particularly.
The youngest two screamed when a rough man came in, for they thought it was the brokers once more. Billiter sent the eldest out for a candle, which he stuck in an empty gin-bottle. He looked at the snoring drunkard, and gave him a contemptuous push with his foot; but the one little boy screamed, "You not touch my dada, you bad man!" and the old fellow was instantly ashamed.
"Yes; arrived from home two days ago. Ah! that reminds me; you're a Shropshire lad; so's he; do you know him?" "No, sir; I've seen him; I I " Desmond stammered, remembering his unfortunate encounter with Clive in Billiter Street. "Well, well," said the harbor master, with a quizzical look; "you'll see him again. Come along." Desmond accompanied Mr. Johnson on shore. A crowd had gathered.
And in those days, just round the corner in Billiter Street, one of the East India Company's warehouses survived, a sombre relic among the new limestone and red granite offices, a massive archway in its centre leading, it could be believed, to an enclosure of night left by the eighteenth century, and forgotten. I never saw anybody go into it, or come out. How could they?
It ran thus: "It is currently reported that the Jupiter Insurance Company has failed heavily, and is only able to meet its liabilities with a composition of sixpence on the pound." Messrs. Ruin & Ruin still carry on business near Billiter Street, but their offices are now on the top floor in a very back alley. "Sail, ho!"
"Come along, Mr Ralph; it is possible we may be successful," was all he said, as he hurried me off to Billiter Street, and Saint Helen's, and to one or two other places in the neighbourhood, where some of the large ship-brokers have their offices.
But this man appeared to be all strength. His whole life seemed like a rod of burnished steel a passion-proof life, a fire-proof rod. The owners of the Chrysolite, Messrs. Ruin & Ruin, of Billiter Street, piqued themselves on knowing his tender point. He was avaricious, thought they; he would do much for money, and they would some day try him in the furnace.
I cannot hope to see you often, and it is better that I should not, for I am worthless. But think of me, and, if I fall again and again, believe me that I shall go on striving to do better. Until death, I am your loving, W. DEVINE." "We don't want none of his 'oss-racin' money. Send it back, my gal," growled old Billiter when he saw this letter. But the poor woman would not hurt her husband.
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