"Oh, Lily, what a difference five hours can make!" he observed with that grasp of the obvious which distinguished him. "By the way, I met someone when I was out."
"Whom?"
"Him. I went home to see if there were any letters for either of us—oh, there were two for you; catch hold—and as I came out I found him on the doorstep."
"What had he come for?"
"I didn't ask him. But I know what he went for. Spread-eagle on the pavement. All in his beautiful clothes. And the hansom went over his hat; damned neat it was. Oh, Lily, that made me feel better, and I felt, too, it was a good omen. I wish you had been there. You would have roared."
"Toby, you are a barbarian! What good does that do?" she said with severity.
"What that sort of a man wants is pain," remarked Toby.
"Was he much hurt?" asked Lily with extreme composure.
"I don't know. I hope so. I hope he was very much hurt."
"Do you mean you left him lying there?"