Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. He has told me sufficient of you—" "My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness' sake—" "I will speak," screamed his wife, totally disregarding the interruption; "I will tell this worthless creature what I know about her,—and what I think of her. Earles answered, glibly. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. Few men could have done as much. However good you were to me, and however happy I was in other ways, I should find this intolerable. V. She stood there limply and did not act to resist him.
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