" "You want another drubbing, I perceive," said Thames, frowning. If I'd not gone mad, they would have hanged me. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. You understand me, Charcoal. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm.
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