"No bones broken, I hope," said Thames, laughing at Jack, who limped towards the bench, rubbing his shins as he went. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. I think that nearly every manager in London has made me an offer. Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company.
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