Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. Ann Veronica surveyed his sloping back for a moment, and then drew her microscope toward her. Wood could stand it no longer. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. And, if I'd my own way with the Secretary of State, he never should. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another.
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