" "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. Almost light-heartedly. But I do not even care if I am absurd. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. ‘To me, quickly!’ There was a brief hush, and then the shouts resumed and several pairs of feet clattered towards her from, as it seemed, several directions. "I tell 'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am, and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare. My garden-close would be a better thing than that. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt.
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