Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. 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 wouldn't do to say that she was from the hospital. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. The gallows has groaned for him for years. ’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing.
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