He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. 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 remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. Capes most unfair,” Miss Klegg went on in a small, even voice; “MOST unfair! I’m glad you spoke out as you did. If she could not marry him, she would not marry any one. It was dry, as if she had powdered it.
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