no more
information
about Mr.
Wickfield,
as she
offered
none, and
we
conversed
on other
subjects
until we
came to
Canterbury,
where, as
it was
market-day,
my aunt
had a
great
opportunity
of
insinuating
the grey
pony among
carts,
baskets,
vegetables,
and
huckster's
goods. The
hair-breadth
turns and
twists we
made, drew
down upon
us a
variety of
speeches
from the
people
standing
about,
which were
not always
complimentary;
but my
aunt drove
on with
perfect
