woman's face looking at me.

She said something; but I could not hear what it was.

"Is Mistress Jermyn within doors?" I asked.

The old face mumbled at me; but I could not hear a word. "Is Mistress
Jermyn within?" I asked again.

Once again the face mumbled at me; and then the door began to close.

This would never do; so I set my foot against it, suddenly all overcome
with impatience--(for I was in no mood to chop words)--and with the same
kind of fury that had seized me in Mr. Chiffinch's rooms. I saw red, as
the saying is; and it was not likely that a deaf old woman would stop
me. She fluttered the door passionately; and then, as I pushed on it,
she cried out. There was a great rattle of footsteps, and as I came into
the little paved entrance, a heavy bald fellow ran out of the room where
I had seen the light--(which was the porter's parlour)--in his
shirt-sleeves, very angry and hot-looking.

He looked at me, like a bull, with lowered head; and I saw that he
carried some weapon in his hand.

"Is Mistress Jermyn within doors?" I asked, putting on a high kind of
air.

"Who the devil are you?" said he.

I was not going to argue that point, for it was the weakest spot in my