“How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. ’ He looked the girl up and down. 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. He had sufficient strength to wait upon himself. “Sold again,” she remarked. Once inside, he looked around, worried that his parents would suddenly cancel their trip and return home.
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