They were selling flowers and fruit, all kinds of fruit--cherries, strawberries, rosy-cheeked apples, luscious grapes--all freshly picked and sparkling with dew.

The gendarme said he had never seen any girls--not in this particular square.
Referring casually to the blood of saints and martyrs, he said he would like to see a few girls in that town worth looking at.

In the square itself sat six motherly old souls round a lamp-post.

One of them had a moustache, and was smoking a pipe, but in other respects, I have no doubt, was all a woman should be.

Two of them were selling fish.