" "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. The streets were deserted as they drove past familiar sites. Taber?" "Regained consciousness this morning. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. “After all, it’s our honeymoon.
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