“Very well,” she would say, “then I must go. The day comes when you shall regret how you have spoken to me. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. Luckily I’m not. ‘Madame, I trust I see you well?’ ‘Merci. 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.
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