A half-drunk harridan surveyed him, from top to toe, and made a profound bow as he passed.

A number of small boys scurried along with them, curiously staring into the face of Solomon.
"Ain't this like comin' into a savage tribe that ain't seen no civilized human bein' fer years ?" "Wot is it ?" a voice shouted.
"'E's a blarsted bush w'acker from North Hamerica, 'e is," another answered.
Jack stopped a cab and they got into it.
"Show us some of the great buildings and land us in an hour at 10 Bloomsbury Square, East," he said.
With a sense of relief they were whisked away in the stream of traffic.
They passed the King's palace and the great town houses of the Duke of Bedford and Lord Balcarras, each of which was pointed out by the driver.

Suddenly every vehicle near them stopped, while their male occupants sat with bared heads.

Jack observed a curious procession on the sidewalk passing between two lines of halted people.
"Hit's their Majesties!" the driver whispered under his breath.
The King--a stout, red-nosed, blue-jowled man, with big, gray, staring eyes--was in a sedan chair surmounted by a crown.

He was dressed in light cloth with silver buttons.