She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. ” “But you thought you could forget him. 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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