For the sitting-room was already in possession of a woman who was seated calmly by the table.
The stranger turned on Mrs.Bunker that frankly insolent glance and deliberate examination which only one woman can give another.

In that glance Mrs.Bunker felt herself in the presence of a superior, even if her own eyes had not told her that in beauty, attire, and bearing the intruder was of a type and condition far beyond her own, or even that of any she had known.

It was the more crushing that there also seemed to be in this haughty woman the same incongruousness and sharp contrast to the plain and homely surroundings of the cottage that she remembered in HIM.
"Yo' aw Mrs.Bunker, I believe," she said in languid Southern accents.
"How de doh ?" "I am Mrs.Bunker," said Mrs.Bunker shortly.
"And so this is where Cunnle Marion stopped when he waited fo' the boat to take him off," said the stranger, glancing lazily around, and delaying with smiling insolence the explanation she knew Mrs.Bunker was expecting.

"The cunnle said it was a pooh enough place, but I don't see it.

I reckon, however, he was too worried to judge and glad enough to get off.