And now the chairman, in a strikingly different style, was preparing the way for the next speaker, at mention of whom the crowd seemed to feel they'd been neglecting their prerogative of hissing.
'What name did she say? Why do they make that noise?'
The two ladies began to worm their way back; but this was a different matter from coming out.
'Wot yer doin'?' some one inquired sternly of Mrs. Fox-Moore.
Another turned sharply, 'Look out! Oo yer pushin', old girl?'
The horrid low creatures seemed to have no sense of deference. And the stuff they smoked!
'Pah!' observed Mrs. Fox-Moore, getting the full benefit of a noxious puff. 'Pah!'
'Wot!' said the smoker, turning angrily. 'Pah to you, miss!' He eyed Mrs. Fox-Moore from head to foot with a withering scorn. 'Comin' 'ere awskin' us fur votes' (Vida nearly fainted), 'and ain't able to stand a little tobacco.'
'Stand in front, Janet,' said Miss Levering, hastily recovering herself. 'I don't mind smoke,' she said mendaciously, trying to appease the defiler of the air with a little smile. Indeed, the idea of Mrs. Fox-Moore having come to 'awsk' this person for a vote was sufficiently quaint.
'This is the sort of thing they mean, I suppose,' said that lady, 'when they talk about cockney humour. It doesn't appeal to me.'