It was terrible to look at him when at length he made his way out of the crowd; his face was livid, his eyes bloodshot, a red slaver covered his lips and beard; you might have taken him for a drunken man, so feebly did his limbs support him, so shattered was he by the fit through which he had passed.
Joseph followed him, and presently walked along at his side.
'That was about as good a speech as I've heard for a long time, Mr.
Hewett,' he began by observing.

'I like to hear a man speak as if he meant it.' John looked up with a leaden, rheumy eye, but the compliment pleased him, and in a moment he smiled vacantly.
'I haven't said my last word yet,' he replied, with difficulty making himself audible through his hoarseness.
'It takes it out of you, I'm afraid.

Suppose we have a drop of something at the corner here ?' 'I don't mind, Mr.Snowdon.I thought of looking in at my club for a quarter of an hour; perhaps you'd come round with me afterwards ?' They drank at the public-house, then Hewett led the way by back streets to the quarters of the club of which he had been for many years a member.

The locality was not cheerful, and the house itself stood in much need of repair.

As they entered, John requested his companion to sign his name in the visitors' book; Mr.Snowdon did so with a flourish.