He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. “Will he live?” The doctor shook his head. ’ ‘Exactly so. . ‘You obstinate little devil. ‘What are the chances, do you think, of that thing being already cocked?’ ‘Probably not even loaded,’ suggested Hilary hopefully. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. “Oh.
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