Before he could stoop for its rescue, it was trampled out of shape; not intentionally--they would have protected Lionel and his things with their lives--but inadvertently.

A woman picked it up with a comical look of despair.

To put on _that_ again was impossible.
"Never mind," said Lionel good-naturedly.

"It was my own fault; I should have held it better." "Put your handkercher over your head, sir," was the woman's advice.
"It'll keep the sun off." Lionel smiled, but did not take it.

Davies was claiming his attention; while some of the women seemed inclined to go in for a fight, which should secure the hat.
"Could Mr.Verner get out o' doors and look into our grievances, the last years of his life, any more, sir, nor she can ?" he was asking, in continuation of the subject.
"No, sir; he couldn't, and he didn't; but things wasn't then brought to the pitch as they be now." "No," acquiesced Lionel, "I was at hand then, to interpose between Roy and Mr.Verner." "And don't you think, sir, as you might be able to do the same thing still ?" "No, Davies.