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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. The clever hostess having let fall that several distinguished guests from France would be present, the world had flocked to her doors to catch, like the gossip-hungry vultures they were, a glimpse of them. "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. I have two days in which to earn nearly thirty shillings—that is with no dinners, and get a situation. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 03-10-2024 12:34:24