He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. "Are you answered?" said Jonathan, with a grin worthy of a demon. Why shouldn't James Boyle pinch out a little fun while waiting? How was he to anticipate the girl and the sea-tramp called The Tigress? Something that wasn't in the play at all but had walked out of the scenery like the historical black cat? "I'll have to punish a lot of tobacco to get the kinks out of this. They all left the room. Traversing Angel Court, and Green Arbour Court,—celebrated as one of Goldsmith's retreats,—he speedily reached Seacoal Lane, and pursuing the same course, which he and Thames had formerly taken, arrived at the yard at the back of Jonathan's habitation. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below.
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