‘And that Suzanne, the sister of my cousin the vicomte, must choose between Monsieur Charvill and her brother. Here would be the true test of his strength. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. 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. We never started out in any high-browed manner to scandalize and Shelleyfy. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone.
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