“We should take advantage of a great opportunity that presents itself, Father,” Palmer the Younger announced over a lavish breakfast one day. He was circling some small print in the classified ads of the Billingsgate Bulletin – more a yellow press than a real newspaper. “A property has come up for sale at No. 202 Stooper’s Street. It’s something we could more than afford, with many pennies to spare. It’s on four floors. Imagine that, four floors. And just look at what they’re asking for it!”
“Stooper’s Street!” choked his mother in disgust, between bites of stout pork and sage sausages garnished with steamed sprouts. “Stooper’s Street!” she repeated for emphasis, now retching.