“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. "Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal. 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 looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. Unobserved, she knelt and kissed the threshold: for she knew what kisses were now. ” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying.
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