Cathy threw Mike a look. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. Humph. After that night she made it a habit. 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. At the farther end of the Lodge, the floor was raised to the height of a couple of steps; whence the whole place, with the exception of the remotest corner of the angle before-mentioned, could be commanded at a single glance. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends.
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