She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. Divers plans and figures were chalked upon the walls; and the spaces between them were filled up with an almanack for the year; a godly ballad, adorned with a rude wood-cut, purporting to be "The History of Chaste Susannah;" an old print of the Seven Golden Candlesticks; an abstract of the various Acts of Parliament against drinking, swearing, and all manner of profaneness; and a view of the interior of Doctor Daniel Burgess's Presbyterian meeting-house in Russell Court, with portraits of the reverend gentleman and the principal members of his flock. The whole neighbourhood was disturbed. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition. The light disappeared. She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her.
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