I would have liked to know. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. By this time, Jack's reputation had risen to such a height with the populace,—his exploits having become the universal theme of discourse, that the streets were almost impassable for the crowds collected to obtain a view of him. I could tell it was Italian, you see. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. She recoiled. .
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