“Dash it all!” the man exclaimed irritably as the carriage wheels hit a particularly nasty rut and jolted his injured arm for the umpteenth time. He winced and cradled the arm against his chest and grimaced. The carriage shook again, and this time he snatched up his walking stick and thumped on the roof of the carriage to get the driver's attention, then stuck his head out the window.
“Winslow! you bleeding cretin, have a care and watch where you're going” He yelled, the wind snatching his words away and he wondered if his driver had heard him at all”
“Sorry yer Lordship,” apparently, Winslow had heard him, “roads be terrible at this 'ere part”
“Well slow down then, we are almost in London, no need to try to kill me in the process” The man called back and withdrew his head back into the
