In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. 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. She is a stranger to you.
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