He talked with his manner gentle and kindly. 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. ‘Never mind where. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. As time went on, she began to think Martha had been mistaken. She loved to be told to do things.
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