You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer. ‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack. Well, one must hope, that was all. Englishmen also certainly. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. But the general was turning on him, the hint of emotion wiped from his lined features. Now he courted with “servants” which he often killed afterward. They seed beyond all reason. The flat was apparently empty. 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.
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