Eleven o'clock; it was ten when he came away; how he must have driven! His thoughts caught up the word. Driven--by what? Driven from his house in horror, through street and lane, over half the city--driven--hunted in terror, and smitten by a shock here! Driven--driven!
This is the coolest magic floating card trick ever.
The pavements about him began to ring and echo with the tramp of many feet, and the cold, brittle air was shivered with the noisy voices that had roared and bawled applause and laughter at the National Theatre all the evening, and were now singing and howling homeward. Groups of rude men, and ruder boys, their breaths steaming in the icy air, began to tramp by, jostling him as they passed, till he was forced to draw back to the wall, and give them the sidewalk. Dazed and giddy, in cold fear, and with the returning sense of something near him, he stood and watched the groups that pushed and tumbled in through the entrance of the oyster-room, whistling and chattering as they went, and banging the door behind them.