I went with him once, at his own request, to a seaman's hospital, where there was a poor fellow who had fallen from a mast and been terribly smashed.

His legs had both been amputated, and he lay looking terribly white and emaciated with a cradle over the stumps.
He gave us, with great eagerness, an account of the accident, as people in the lower classes always will.

In the middle, Arthur stepped suddenly to the door and went out.

I was not aware at the time of this failing of his, and the move was executed with such deliberate directness that I thought he must have forgotten something.

When I went out to the open air I found Arthur, deadly pale, sitting on the grassy paving-stones of the little yard.