“But how can you?” asked Constance. He became a little more personal and intimate. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. \" His tone was weak and conciliatory.
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