She could tell it was new territory for him and he might lose the nerve to take them off himself, without the aid of drink. Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. . 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. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. “For better or worse. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation.
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