I bored him. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. ‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. The few whites he had ever known generally offered to pet him when they really wanted to kick him. There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. The body of Jack Sheppard, meanwhile, was borne along by that tremendous host, which rose and fell like the waves of the ocean, until it approached the termination of the Edgeware Road.
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