The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. “Glaciers?” she said. Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs. Lucy complied, slipping the tight jeans over her white underwear.
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