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. "Thank Heaven!" she gasped. “You certainly got him in the bag. Spurlock was fond of dogs; he was fond of this offspring of many mesalliances; but he never made any attempt to win Rollo, to share him. ‘I’m following a scent. There'll be a fall of above twelve foot o' water, and think o' that on a night as 'ud blow a whole fleet to the devil. Do you know what? You're some sea goddess and you're only fooling us. It had gone with the rest.
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