"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. It’s Providence. "Hist!" cried Rowland, arresting his comrade. They were at the corner of Pall Mall now, and had come to a standstill. I've bumped into so much of the underside that I can't see clean any more.
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