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“So, how’d it go?” Lucy sighed. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. ” He hesitated, and went off at a tangent. 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 did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk.
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