Will you give me a hand, sir, and we'll have him in the wagon." So I was forced to touch him after all.

Nevertheless I kept my eyes as far as possible from the ghastly face with the long hideous wound across it.

I saw now, however, in one swift unwilling glance, what manner of man this was.

He had thin features, a high forehead, deep-set eyes too close together, a thin iron-grey moustache.

Whatever his station in life may have been, he was not of the labouring classes, for his hands were soft and his nails well cared for.