Forthwith everyone all down the street, the sweetstuff seller, coconut shy proprietor and his assistant, the swing man, little boys and girls, rustic dandies, smart wenches, smocked elders and aproned gipsies⁠—began running towards the inn, and in a miraculously short space of time a crowd of perhaps forty people, and rapidly increasing, swayed and hooted and inquired and exclaimed and suggested, in front of Mrs. Hall’s establishment. Everyone seemed eager to talk at once, and the result was babel. A small group supported Mrs. Hall, who was picked up in a state of collapse. There was a conference, and the incredible evidence of a vociferous eyewitness. “O bogey!” “What’s he been doin’, then?” “Ain’t hurt the girl, ’as ’e?” “Run at en with a knife, I believe.” “No ’ed, I tell ye. I don’t mean no manner of speaking. I mean marn ’ithout a ’ed !” “Narnsense! ’tis some conjuring trick.” “Fetched off ’is wrapping, ’e did⁠—”