At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. He won’t be in uniform. We are amiable to one another, but we don’t mix. He was heartily thankful for it. ‘Ah, well, we’ll check the back and then go home. ’ ‘Yes, she duped me finely,’ agreed Gerald. The burden of decision had been transferred.
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