The Hospital St. 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. Then there was also the horse. “Were you thinking of private apartments, a boarding-house or an hotel?” she asked. "But she is a dear," said Angelina, timidly.
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