‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand. 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. Died short, I suppose, and the girls had to shift for themselves. ‘To where has he gone off?’ ‘No use asking me,’ shrugged the captain. He must never refuse her anything which was within his power to grant—anything (he modified) which did not lead to his motives. Her voice recalled him.
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