She flew to the door, but returned the next minute, looking deeply disappointed, and bringing the intelligence that it was "only Mrs. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. 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. The race began once more; but this time Ruth knew that there would be no escape. The cook tried to ply her with spiced meat and fish soup.
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