. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end. If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected. ’ With an unexpected flush of pleasure, he recalled the girl’s antics. She proceeded to lift the front end of the car five feet from the ground with one 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. Await me in the coach.
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