The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 95: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

OF LONDON. 93 livid, his limbs hanging loosely, like those of a dead body. Pieces of linen, stained with blood, Stephen Macrab was sitting near the window, overpowered by grief, his face hidden by both his Pack scarcely breathed. All his faculties issemed concentrated in that of sight. .A man in black, who was doubtless a physician, con- tinued to feel Frank’s pulse, Another apparent- Jy the assistant of the first, continued to probe the wound, touched it, and ‘shook his head, as if ‘uncertain of the event. The assistant at that moment withdrew the ‘probe, and measured the depth of the wound. |Jack could not bear it any longer. He opened the door a little wider—the two strangers did not ‘perceive it, Jack could hear better, but he could ‘no longer see anything. =o OEE CHAPTER XII. | Ti was the assistant who first spoke. Half a _ line deeper, said he in a whisper, and the bron- _chial artery would have been touched. __ Half aline! reiterated the man in black, and -Inthesamelowtone, Are you quite sure Rowley, that the artery is not injured. ' Quite sure, sir. It is safe by a good half line. A momentary silence followed these words, Jack, who could hear nothing, wished again to | ot what 9 ‘was going forward, and therefore Ne Ecomichooks.Gom