Out on you! Men?
Pshaw! You are children!" The people laughed--it was the hard, grating, hollow laugh that sets the teeth on edge behind the lips that utter it.

Instantly the voices of the crowd broke up into a discordant clangour, like to the counter-currents of an angry sea.

"She's right," said a shrill voice.

"He deserves it," snuffled a nasal one.

"At least let us drive him out of the town," said a third gruff voice.