The String of Pearls (1850), p. 480

cupboard door was not close shut, and she knew not what prompted her to approach and peep in. On the first shelf was the hat of the tobacconist: it was rather a remarkable one, and recognised in a moment.
"What has happened? Good God! what can have happened?" thought Johanna, as she staggered back, until she reached the shaving- chair, into which she cast herself for support. Her eyes fell upon the arm which she had taken such a shaving off with the razor, but all was perfectly whole and correct; there was not the least mark of the cut that so recently had been given to it; and lost in wonder, Johanna, for more than a minute, continued looking for the mark of the injury she knew could not have been, by any possibility, effaced.
And yet she found it not, although there was the chair, just as usual, with its wide spreading arms and its worn, tarnished paint and gilding. No wonder that Johanna rubbed her eyes, and asked herself if she were really awake?
What could account for such a phenomenon? The chair was a fixture too, and the others in the shop were of a widely different make and construction, so it could not have been changed.
"Alas! alas!" mourned Johanna, H my mind is full of horrible surmises, and yet I can form no rational conjecture. I suspect everything, and know nothing. What can I do I What ought I to do, to relieve myself from this state of horrible suspense? Am I really in a place where, by some frightful ingenuity, murder has become bold and familiar, or can it be all a delusion?"
She covered her face with her hands for a time, and when she uncovered them, she saw that Sweeney Todd was staring at her with looks of suspicion from the inner room.
The necessity of instantly acting her part came over Johanna, and she gave a loud scream.
"What the devil is all this about?" said Todd, advancing with a sinister expression. "What's the meaning of it? I suspect—"
"Yes, sir," said Johanna, "and so do I; I must to-morrow have it out."
"Have what out?"
"My tooth, sir—it's been aching for some hours; did you ever have the toothache? if you did, you can feel for me, and not wonder that I lean my head upon my hands and groan."
Todd looked about half satisfied at this excuse of Johanna's, and for a few moments as he looked at her, she thought that after all she should have to call upon her friends in the cupboard to save her from the danger that his eyes, in their flashing ghastliness, threatened. Another moment, and her lips would have parted with the shrill cry of "Murder!" upon them, and then Heaven only know what might have been the result; but he turned suddenly, and went into the parlour, muttering to himself—
"It is not worth while now, and this night ends it all—yes, this night ends it all."
He slammed the door violently behind him, and Johanna was relieved from the horror which his gaze had awakened in her heart. She stood still, but gradually she recovered her former calmness—if calmness it could at all be called, seeing that it was only a stiller species of agitation.
But she now began to recall the words of Sir Richard Blunt to the effect that measures had been taken that- no more murders could be committed by Todd, and she began to feel comforted.
"There is something that I do not know yet," she said; "Sir Richard should have told me how there could be no more murders done here, and then I should not have suffered what I did, and what I still suffer with the thought that almost before my eyes a fellow creature has been hurried into eternity; and yet I ought to have faith, and in defiance of all the seeming evidences of a horrible deed about me, I ought, I suppose, to believe that it has been prevented in some most strange and miraculous way.''
The more Johanna thought over this promise of Sir Richard Blunt's the more she became convinced that he would never have given utterance to it if he had