It was amazing to see so many men everywhere in the streets.

Mrs.Morel usually quarrelled with her lace woman, sympathised with her fruit man--who was a gabey, but his wife was a bad 'un--laughed with the fish man--who was a scamp but so droll--put the linoleum man in his place, was cold with the odd-wares man, and only went to the crockery man when she was driven--or drawn by the cornflowers on a little dish; then she was coldly polite.
"I wondered how much that little dish was," she said.
"Sevenpence to you." "Thank you." She put the dish down and walked away; but she could not leave the market-place without it.

Again she went by where the pots lay coldly on the floor, and she glanced at the dish furtively, pretending not to.
She was a little woman, in a bonnet and a black costume.

Her bonnet was in its third year; it was a great grievance to Annie.
"Mother!" the girl implored, "don't wear that nubbly little bonnet." "Then what else shall I wear," replied the mother tartly.

"And I'm sure it's right enough." It had started with a tip; then had had flowers; now was reduced to black lace and a bit of jet.
"It looks rather come down," said Paul.