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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