Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. They were properly brought up, and sat still and straight, and took the luck fate brought them as gentlewomen should. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. She hunted the markets for bread and treats so they could feast during the day. If we were set upon I could not defend you. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend.
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