’ He slid slowly down and collapsed to the stone floor, fainting dead away. The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. 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. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones.
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