"We’ll have to gin up our own meteor ology," answered the other. He jammed a shoulder into a crevice of light that had opened up between the frame of the window and his fellow-pilgrim’s ribs, pried him out of the way, and availed himself of some air. Being London-air it could not be called fresh , but it was an improvement on the congealed miasma that filled these confines: a sort of well-shaft two hundred feet high.