Lord! Look at those drunken beasts.

No--no"-- the landlord was about to shut the latticed windows--"run to the door, child.

Quick." A howling sottish mob mad with drink, clamouring, gesticulating, men and women jostling each other, embracing vulgarly, their eyes glassy, their faces flushed, was approaching the inn.
The mob was headed by a handsome woman.

She was in the plenitude of fleshly charms.

Her dress, disordered, showed her round solidly built shoulders, her ample bust.