It was Mrs.Anthony, a black-haired, strange little body, who always wore a brown velvet dress, tight fitting.
"I haven't," said Mrs.Morel.
"Eh, I wish he'd come.

I've got a copperful of clothes, an' I'm sure I heered his bell." "Hark! He's at the end." The two women looked down the alley.

At the end of the Bottoms a man stood in a sort of old-fashioned trap, bending over bundles of cream-coloured stuff; while a cluster of women held up their arms to him, some with bundles.

Mrs.Anthony herself had a heap of creamy, undyed stockings hanging over her arm.
"I've done ten dozen this week," she said proudly to Mrs.Morel.
"T-t-t!" went the other.

"I don't know how you can find time." "Eh!" said Mrs.Anthony.