Part 5 The next morning she waited in the laboratory at the lunch-hour in the reasonable certainty that he would come to her. “Oh goody. 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. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. To think of him as loving her would make all that different. Wild is incapable of such baseness. E.
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