Haymarket ware

You take the advice of a man who’s older than you, my boy, and has seen more of the world than you ever will! If she ain't Haymarket ware, hedge off!

Who was she, then, this girl? Or rather, what was she? An actress? A piece of Haymarket ware paid to alter her profession temporarily? If so, she was a most delectable item of merchandise.

"Women!" Christopher fumed. "They are nothing but vain parasites, every one of them after attention, wealth, or a title, or all three, and the worst of their sex are those in the ton. Give me honest Haymarket-ware anytime. At least with them you know what you are getting into. They only exact payment for services rendered, not for a lifetime[…]"

She looked like Haymarket ware. A veritable trollop. Good God, she had chosen something Mrs. Daphne Coleraine might wear!

Melody's velvet gray eyes were transformed instantly into boiling little infernos of fury. "How dare you, sir! Do you think me Haymarket ware?"