Explore "A Tragi-Comedy of Creeds" by Israel Zangwill on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Not much before midnight in a midland town -- a thriving commercial town, whose dingy back streets swarmed with poverty and piety -- a man in a soft felt hat and a white tie was hurrying home over a bridge that spanned a dark crowded river. He had missed the tram, and did not care to be seen out late, but he could not afford a cab. Suddenly he felt a tug at his long black coat-tail. Vaguely alarmed and definitely annoyed, he turned round quickly. A breathless, roughly-clad, rugged-featured man loosed his hold of the skirt.
"Scuse me, sir -- I've been running," gasped the stranger, placing his horny hand on his breast and panting.