“As I have explained many a time, Lucia, the maladies of the blood and flesh do not afflict us. 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. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. “By Jove!” he said, “there is something direct about you.
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