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. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. ” “Not quite so easily as it explains an insect alighting on colored paper. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her. She had not noticed such beauty in many years, and it almost caused her to weep. Anna, in her strange striking way, was radiantly beautiful.
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