‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back.
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