Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. 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. Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. I put my foot down like—like adamant. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. CHAPTER III. That's the sort of fool your nephew is!" "Not even a good time!" said the aunt, whimsically, as she stuffed the bills into her reticule.
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