Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. At length, however, by dealing blows right and left with their swords, and even inflicting severe cuts on the foremost of the rabble, the soldiers managed to gain a clear course, and to drive back the assailants; who, as they retreated behind the barricades, shouted in tones of defiance, "To Tyburn! to Tyburn!" The object of all this tumult, meanwhile, never altered his position, but sat back in the cart, as if resolved not to make even a struggle to regain his liberty. So long. Upon this island whither he was bound there would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would be constant. Businesswomen in pointy-toed shoes swooned coyly in his direction, tipping their noses over their glossy magazines to admire 273 him. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. He has no imagination, no real generosity.
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