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. “There is a secret. But Blueskin was not to be silenced. Somehow her walk home
with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic
rejection, a slamming. "
"Well, well, I'm not within a minute," rejoined the turnkey. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there
was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her
long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. ’
‘Ah, so that’s where Valade comes in,’ nodded Lucy. That's worth
something to me; for I don't mind paying for revenge. I give you the plain,
unadulterated truth.
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