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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. For an instant, Melusine watched him go. ” He glared at Martin. His eyes swept the company, and fell upon Melusine with a glare. Even now she was dazed. “You are developing far too retentive a memory for praises,” said Ann Veronica. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked.
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