"I'll tell you why," he said. The evenings were dulcet and soft. Wood struck me a blow which made me a robber. Wood, disdainfully. 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 looked at him for a moment with fire in her eyes.
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