Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. Since the discovery of them, she had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales. They are blinded to all fine and subtle things —they look at life with bloodshot eyes and dilated nostrils.
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