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musing over drinks

dockside johnny and some of his mates sat around a table at the bucket talking about the most recent fire,

johnny’s left middle finger still in a splint after he broke it while trying to relocate it himself, waved about as he spoke ” the whole build’n burned down round their ‘eads and not a moments rest do they give us, down right distressing it is”

old cab wiped his ever runny nose on his sleeve “i ‘eard tell the bitch burned up in the fire, cor now wouldn’t that be noice”

the third at the table, a young man nicknamed shuffles, moved his feet “naw it were some one else, she were seen outside during the fire, coat back half burned way , wav’n a pistol and giv’n orders te the fire brigade, with a big ol carpet bag in ‘er ‘and”

cab took a sip from the tankard he’d been nursing all evening “now wouldn’t i love ter see wats in that bag”

johnny glared at him “no yer wouldn’t mate, it’s not ‘alf worth yer life te see wots in her kit en thats the truth!”

cab nodded “still it bet it were full o gold or some such”

shuffles shook his head “more ‘en likely it were books or ledgers an the like”

Johnny slapped his hand on the table”enough ’bout that bag, aint  worth yer death te be so interested in her business”

i’d still loike ter know “cab replied, then he and shuffles both looked up over Johnny’s shoulders ,stood up quickly and shuffled out of the pub.

Johnny froze as a now more than familiar voice spoke behind his back and a toothy gray muzzle slid into view over his shoulder”‘ello Johnny me darlin, i need a word with yeh”

the foot pad winced at the warm trickle running down his leg “now Mr Omig im all paid up as yer well know, so i don’t know why yer lookin fer lhe loikes of me”

the wolf Moreau spun a chair around and sat in it back to front ‘nah Johnny, or should i call yer tinkles? yer golden, im lookin fer mick and was wonder’n if youve seen him about? “



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