It began to look as if Calcutta were not wholly irredeemable. A ticca-gharry deposited a sea captain; three carriages arrived in succession; an indefinite number of the Duke's Own, hardly any of them drunk, filed in to the rupee seats under the gallery; an overflow from Jimmy Finnigan, who could no longer give his patrons even standing room. When this occurred, Llewellyn turned and swung indifferently away in the direction of the dressing-rooms. When Jimmy Finnigan closed his doors so early there was no further cause for anxiety. Calcutta was abroad and stirring, and would turn for amusement even to _The Offence of Galilee_.

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