Explore "The White Cat" by W.W. Jacobs on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The traveller stood looking from the tap-room window of the "Cauliflower" at the falling rain. The village street below was empty, and everything was quiet with the exception of the garrulous old man smoking with much enjoyment on the settle behind him.
"It'll do a power o' good," said the ancient, craning his neck round the edge of the settle and turning a bleared eye on the window. "I ain't like some folk; I never did mind a drop o' rain."