’ The lady stamped her foot. I like the way you shared it. And she’s pluck to the backbone. Even you have not been able to hold her back. 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 wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders.
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