‘I hope I do not understand you. His two wives have been here. "Like a hero," answered Austin. The fellow is little better than a lunatic. 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. "You are free," said he, "that grating forms a ladder, by which you may descend in safety. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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