He was all alone, too. 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. The thought of beauty became an obsession. The guards, horse and foot, and constables formed a wide circle round it to keep off the mob. All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. . " "How do you manage that, Mr. ’ ‘Well, but he was a deserter, you see. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. “Are you aware, Ann Veronica, you nearly throttled that gentleman?” Then she reviled her own foolish way of putting it.
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