A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. I know something about men. They hissed me!” “Beasts!” he muttered. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. ‘And your schooling?’ he pursued. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter.
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