The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. 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. He dug about in his mind for a term to fit her, and he came upon the word new. She did not have the power of men. The rear of the party was brought up by a large, powerfully-built man, with a bluff, honest, but rugged countenance, slashed with many a cut and scar, and stamped with that surly, sturdy, bull-dog-like look, which an Englishman always delights to contemplate, because he conceives it to be characteristic of his countrymen. I'll be wanting my sixteen thousand. “Come with me.
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