" "Oh, dear!" simpered Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to hide her confusion by looking steadfastly at her plate. 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. His tone was rough, almost threatening. " While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. . Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers.
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