I glanced at her.
“Let’s go,” she said.
He caught her words.
“There speaks the lady who would learn; the woman possessed of the spirit of inquiry.”
I repeated my former suggestion.
“Let’s get into a cab.”
But he declined.
“No; I’ll have none of your cabs, I’ll walk. I’m cribb’d, cabined, and confined out in the open; in a cab I’d stifle. There’s a hand upon my heart, a grip upon my throat, a weight upon my head; they make it hard to breathe. I’ll be in close quarters soon enough; I’ll keep out of them as long as I can.”
I turned to the officials. “Can’t you keep these people back? I don’t want to have them following us through the streets. The man’s not drunk, he’s ill.”
“I should get him into a cab.”