Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. " "I can at least, protect myself," replied Wild, with, provoking calmness. And there are other guides.
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