“When you married me——” Her little hand flashed out across the table. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. " "Bah!" ejaculated Marvel, gruffly. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. 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.
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