He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. “You needn’t say a word more,” Mr. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. He stopped us, and, addressing Jack in a taunting tone, said, 'Well, I've been as good as my word!'—'True,' replied Sheppard; 'and I'll be as good as mine!' And so they parted. " "Somebody coming?" "Yes.
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