Could she have seen her face, its look of vulgar abandonment would have horrified her.
Some one trod violently on her heel, and she turned with a half-angry laugh, protesting.

'Beg your pardon, miss,' said a young fellow of the clerkly order.

'A push be'ind made me do it.' He thrust himself to a place beside her, and Nancy conversed with him unrestrainedly, as though it were a matter of course.

The young man, scrutinising her with much freedom, shaped clerkly compliments, and, in his fashion, grew lyrical; until, at a certain remark which he permitted himself, Nancy felt it time to shake him off.

Her next encounter was more noteworthy.