He lifted her from the floor. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. The two great hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. This person, whose age might be about forty, was attired in a brown double-breasted frieze coat, with very wide skirts, and a very narrow collar; a light drugget waistcoat, with pockets reaching to the knees; black plush breeches; grey worsted hose; and shoes with round toes, wooden heels, and high quarters, fastened by small silver buckles. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. Silken open robes over full tiffany petticoats in a contrasting colour were, Lucy assured him, of the very latest Parisian design, cut by the finest French tailors. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. "I forgot. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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