Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. 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. "But be prudent, my angel. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. "Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to appease his companion's indignation.
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