If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. "You were a little out of your head. ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. With a strong tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived. He had looked at it before without comprehension.
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