Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. It was all highly intriguing. Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew. Having secured this implement, he burst from his conductor, and, leaping into the hatch, as clowns generally spring into the clockfaces, when in pursuit of harlequin in the pantomime,—that is, back foremost,— broke into a fit of loud and derisive laughter, kicking his heels merrily all the time against the boards.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3LjQyLjEyOSAtIDEzLTA2LTIwMjQgMTQ6MTQ6NTcgLSAyMTIxMDYzNzI5
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