” Lucy made fast friends with Jane Lenihan that day. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered. If Miss Charvill should take it into her head to dash off on some foolish errand, go with her by all means. At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean.
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