I thought that he was dead. The coachman answered by a surly grunt, and, plying his whip with redoubled zeal, shaped his course down Dyot Street; traversed that part of Holborn, which is now called Broad Street, and where two ancient alms-houses were, then, standing in the middle of that great thoroughfare, exactly opposite the opening of Compston Street; and, diving under a wide gateway on the left, soon reached a more open space, surrounded by mean habitations, coach-houses and stables, called Kendrick Yard, at the further end of which Saint Giles's round-house was situated. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. ‘En effet, it is for this that I was enquiring of this man if he has pen and paper. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. "Take a drop of brandy before we start, watchman," said Wood, pouring out a glass of spirit, and presenting it to Terence, who smacked his lips as he disposed of it. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. For your information, it was paradise there.
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