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. He could hardly open the envelope, he trembled so. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. If he recovers he may not accuse her. Where is Father Spencer? I must have absolution. In fact, it had been anciently the right hand postern under the gate leading towards the city.
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