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. It's a long time since we met, eight years and more. They took their places at a distant table. In all this world there was no sacred ground that said to her: Return! She was of all human beings the most lonely. Listen to me, Thames.
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