His eyes were narrow with desire like a panther’s as he grinned at seeing her visibly satisfied. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air. David Courtlaw. The third time she escaped she reached the inconsequent barricade of the overturned table. 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. A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink.
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