For reginald bell he found a preparation that drove the rest of the nerve-shock out of his pain-filled limbs.
He smiled very complacently at such times, but rather as if he were satisfied with himself than with anything else: and so went riding on, upon his chestnut cob, as pleasant to look upon as his own horse, and probably far less sensitive to the many cheerful influences by which he was surrounded.
In it, of course, phoebe would be charmingly displayed as what she was, a slave.