“You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. ’ ‘Aye, more’s the pity. Luckily, Sir James was so much engrossed by his own task, that both the remark and gesture escaped him. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. But he's witty and amusing, and when reasonably drunk he can play the piano like a Paderewski.
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