"You've won your wager. Jonathan had to feel his way. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. 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. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. Jonathan caught her in his arms.
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