“It may be true, but it isn’t quite what I have in mind. He was not there. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. She hastened past. ’ His eyes found the girl again, and he added rancorously, ‘Giving birth to you. It had a tiny flaw, most bizarre. 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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