Anna crossed the street, and letting herself in at No. 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. She turned there, clasped her hands behind her back and put up her chin. He had heard everything. She offers me no explanation, permits me absolutely no hope. ‘You put that thing away now, missie. Don’t be afraid to go on thinking it. Not a scar but has its history. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. "Yes.
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