It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone. Determined, however, not be taken with life, he held on. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. After a brief conversation, which Sheppard sustained with his accustomed liveliness, the old man turned to Bess and addressed a few words of common-place gallantry to her. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. Rain changed to hail, then 154 sleet, then snow. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. The lady reseated herself, watching him expectantly. You will go out at once, if you please. Her cheeks were aflame. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father.
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