She didn’t like the shops, she didn’t like the other women’s faces; she thought the smirking men in frock-coats who dominated these establishments the most intolerable persons she had ever had to face. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Are you now satisfied?" "No," interposed Wood, furiously, "I shall never be satisfied till I see you hanged on the highest gibbet at Tyburn. She distinctly shivered as he forced her to look at him.
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