He drew a little breath of relief. "Open the door, I say, or I'll burst it open. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. I'll be wanting my sixteen thousand. He called here on his way back, after he had been to Bedlam to visit poor Mrs. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. "Arrest!" vociferated Wood.
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