She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. You're welcome to it. White would not approve of callers. The cage at Willesden was, and is—for it is still standing—a small round building about eight feet high, with a pointed tiled roof, to which a number of boards, inscribed with the names of the parish officers, and charged with a multitude of admonitory notices to vagrants and other disorderly persons, are attached.
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