Last Updated：2025/12/20
Sentence
The
turmoil
went
on—no
rest,
no
peace.
[…]
It
was
nearly
eleven
o'clock
now,
and
he
strolled
out
again.
In
the
little
fair
created
by
the
costers'
barrows
the
evening
only
seemed
beginning;
and
the
naphtha
flares
made
one's
eyes
ache,
the
men's
voices
grated
harshly,
and
the
girls'
faces
saddened
one.
Quizzes for review
The turmoil went on—no rest, no peace. […] It was nearly eleven o'clock now, and he strolled out again. In the little fair created by the costers' barrows the evening only seemed beginning; and the naphtha flares made one's eyes ache, the men's voices grated harshly, and the girls' faces saddened one.
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