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. Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently. \"Cool. "Won't you be persuaded, Joan?" he added, making a similar offer to Mrs. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. For this three weeks had been the hardest of her life. Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible.
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