Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. I was just like a sort of dummy that does things as it is told—that is to say, as the strings are pulled. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. It was a reputation by no means deserved. She deserves what has befallen her. No, don’t let me call myself that. She hung for a moment, and then went on, conclusively, “Until we have the vote that is how things WILL be. Come and have lunch with me. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. A new thought checked her steps and she froze. It did so well that they sold it in the nineties.
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