The girl, pallid, with
large dark eyes, a somewhat tawdry hat and torn skirt, turned angrily
around.
"Who yer shouting at, eh? There ain't so many of yer as knows yer own
names, I dir say, and 'Ardinge's as good as any other. Leave a body be,
won't yer?"
She turned round to Brooks, and disclosed a most alarming rent in her
gown.
"Look 'ere, guv'nor," she said, "that's my name, and I 'as a back room
behind old Connel's fish-shop next door but one to 'ere. If yer want to
give away things to them as wants 'em, wot price a new skirt 'ere, eh?"
A woman from the rear leaned over to Brooks.
"The 'ussy," she said. "Don't you take no notice of 'er, sir. We all
knows 'er--and precious little good there is ter know."
Miss Hardinge was not unreasonably annoyed. She turned round with
flashing eyes and belligerent attitude.
"Who the 'ell asked you anything?" she exclaimed. "Can't yer keep your
bloomin' mouths closed?"
A pale-faced little man pushed his way through the throng. He was
dressed in a semi-clerical garb, and he tapped Brooks on the shoulder.
"Can you favour me with one moment's private conversation, sir?" he
said.
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