"The door's open, and the room empty. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work. "Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate.
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