They were nasty amongst themselves as a
matter of course; their disputes were nauseating in origin, in manner, in
the spirit of mean selfishness. These women, too, seemed to enjoy
greatly any sort of row and were always ready to combine together to make
awful scenes to the luckless girl on incredibly flimsy pretences. Thus
Flora on one occasion had been reduced to rage and despair, had her most
secret feelings lacerated, had obtained a view of the utmost baseness to
which common human nature can descend--I won't say _a propos de bottes_
as the French would excellently put it, but literally _a propos_ of some
mislaid cheap lace trimmings for a nightgown the romping one was making
for herself. Yes, that was the origin of one of the grossest scenes
which, in their repetition, must have had a deplorable effect on the
unformed character of the most pitiful of de Barral's victims. I have it
from Mrs. Fyne. The girl turned up at the Fynes' house at half-past nine
on a cold, drizzly evening. She had walked bareheaded, I believe, just
as she ran out of the house, from somewhere in Poplar to the
neighbourhood of Sloane Square--without stopping, without drawing breath,
if only for a sob.
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