ed, wearing her huge hat cocked over one ear with a defiant
coquetry above a would-be conquering smile. The unerring wits in the
crowd had already picked her out for special attention, but her active
'public form' was even more torturing to the fastidious feminine sense
than her 'stylish' appearance. For her language, flowery and
grandiloquent, was excruciatingly genteel, one moment conveyed by minced
words through a pursed mouth, and the next carried away on a turgid tide
of rhetoric--the swimmer in this sea of sentiment flinging out
braceleted arms, and bawling appeals to the '_Wim--men--nof--Vinglund!_'
The crowd howled with derisive joy.

All the same, when they saw she had staying power, and a kind of
Transpontine sense of drama in her, the populace mocked less and
applauded more. Why not? She was very much like an overblown Adelphi
heroine, and they could see her act for nothing. But every time she
apostrophized the '_Wim--men--nof--Vinglund!_' two of those same gave
way to overcharged feelings.

'Oh, my dear, I can't stand this! I'm going home!'

'Yes, yes. Let's get away from this terrible female. I suppose they keep
back the best speakers for the last.'

The two ladies turned, and began to edge their way out of the tightly
packed mass of humanity.

'It's rather a pity, too,' said Mrs. Fox-Moore, looking back, 'for this
is the only chance we'll ever have. I did want to hear what the skilly
was.'

'Yes, and about the dog-whip.'

'Skilly! Sounds as if it might be what she hit the policeman with.' Mrs.
Fox-Moore was again pausing to look back. 'That gyrating female is more
what I expected them _all_ to be.'

'Yes; but just listen to that.'

'To what?'

'Why, the way they're applauding her.'

'Yes, they positively revel in the creature!'

It was a long, tiresome business this worming their way out. They paused
again and again two or three times, looking back at the scene with a
recurrent curiosity, and each time repelled by the platform graces of
the lady who was so obviously enjoying herself to the top of her bent.
Yet even after the fleeing twain arrived on the fringe of the greatly
augmented crowd, something even then prevented their instantly making
the most of their escape. They stood criticizing and denouncing.

Again Mrs. Fox-Moore said it was a pity, since they were there, that
they should have to go without hearing one of those who had been in
prison, 'For we'll never have another chance.'