She was furiously angry. 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. “It’s very
late. “The very question, my dear sister,” she said, “tells me that I have succeeded. “Thank you—and good-bye. . “She’s going to have some sort of meal with the Widgetts down the Avenue,
and go up with them. His long struggle with himself, his
avoidance of her were quite unnecessary. ’
She allowed herself to be pulled to the centre of the room, but uttered in a low
tone, full of suppressed anxiety, ‘How can he know? How can he know?’
‘You mean how can he know that this is your house?’
Melusine looked up at him, distress in her eyes.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 04-07-2024 23:57:35