"It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. 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. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. “How so?” “I should have shared these things with you earlier, my sweet heart. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off.
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