His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ agreed Gerald with a grin. Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd.
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