He was caked with dried muck. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. Businesswomen in pointy-toed shoes swooned coyly in his direction, tipping their noses over their glossy magazines to admire 273 him. A crowd was collected round the fellow, who was rapidly disposing of his stock. In addition, the Fadden Dance business, all out of proportion, occupied the whole foreground of her thoughts and threw a color of rebellion over everything. "So the wheelman told you? I've always spoken it, though I can neither read nor write it. —'We'll do it,' said they, filling their glasses, and looking as fierce as King George's grenadier guards; 'here's your health, Mint. Laugh on the wrong side of your mouth, now. S.
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