Clientèle was of the most transitory character. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. Sampans with fish and fruit and vegetables swarmed about, while overhead gulls wheeled and swooped and circled. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. She was curious, and at the same time clearly resolved she must not hear it. I won't dig their graves with my nails. And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her. But it is my fault. We hide it bravely, but so it is. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible.
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