It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. ’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate.
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