I would have liked to know. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. ” “And you can’t?” “I don’t think I ought to control myself. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street.
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