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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Leastways, that's where I generally hang out when I can afford it. And window-cleaner. Leastways, I was window cleaning when when " "When you came in contact with the stick we've been advertising about," suggested Spargo. "Just so. Well, Mollison what about the stick?" Mollison looked round at the door, and then at the windows, and then at Breton.
Dod, they pappit ane anither wi' proverbs juist like skule laddies wi' snawba's. "There's Moses Certricht's wife awa' by there," says Mistress Kenawee, pointin' oot at the winda. "She's a clorty, weirdless-lookin' cratur. I'm dootin' Moses hasna muckle o' a hame wi' her, the gloidin' tawpie 'at she is." "Eh, haud your tongue!" said Mistress Mollison.
He didna say muckle, but I'll swag he gey Pottie a neg on Teysday nicht that he'll no forget in a hurry nether will Mistress Mollison. Mind ye, I didna think Sandy was so deep. It was a gey trick. Sandy was determined to pey aff Pottie in his ain coin, an' he had gotten Bandy Wobster to kollig wi' him to gie Lawson a richt fleg.
The man in the chair eyed the two of them cautiously, and not without suspicion. He cleared his throat with a palpable effort. "Of course," he said. "It's all on the strict private. Name of Edward Mollison, sir." "And where do you live, and what do you do?" asked Spargo. "You might put it down Rowton House, Whitechapel," answered Edward Mollison.
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