” “Who are you?” “I am a friend of Miss Pellissier’s,” Courtlaw answered. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. He’s waiting. Ennison’s acquaintance. He rolled on top of her, pinning her with his arms and forming a tented cage. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested.
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