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. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks. . Better take these sandwiches. . There's good stuff in him, if one could find the way to dig it out. " "True, and I shan't be easy till my turn arrives. Instead, he was bowing to her greataunt.
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