“Now the door’s shut,” said Mr. Fledgeby, sitting up in anguish, with his Turkish cap half on and half off, and the bars on his face getting bluer, “do me the kindness to look at my back and shoulders. They must be in an awful state, for I hadn’t got my dressing-gown on, when the brute came rushing in. Cut my shirt away from the collar; there’s a pair of scissors on that table. Oh!” groaned Mr. Fledgeby, with his hand to his head again. “How I do smart, to be sure!”

“There?” inquired Miss Jenny, alluding to the back and shoulders.

“Oh Lord, yes!” moaned Fledgeby, rocking himself. “And all over! Everywhere!”