‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. ‘Don’t involve me in your lover’s tiff. Rhea spun round and sank her teeth into Lucy’s arm. 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.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 23-09-2024 18:27:58