F. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. By this time, Jack's reputation had risen to such a height with the populace,—his exploits having become the universal theme of discourse, that the streets were almost impassable for the crowds collected to obtain a view of him. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. He fondled her naked breasts with his fingers, then his mouth.
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