Dollis Hill revisited. 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. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. "I had one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps, I have one still. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. ‘Except Captain Roding,’ agreed the old lady, nodding at the butler.
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