"I thought it best that you should imagine him. “I do mean that,” she declared. ” “Okay. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest.
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