” He was slightly tipsy. 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. ‘Merci,’ Melusine said, and smiled. He kissed her cheek. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. Mr. ‘I told you I could handle her. ‘Well said, my dear. I asked her to marry me, and she consented. Instead of which, more than half an hour has elapsed. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water.
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