On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. ” “And you?” “Rather!” “I wonder why?” “There’s no why. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. ToC Sir Rowland, meantime, paced his chamber with a quick and agitated step.
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