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. Have you thought of the monstrous lie you are adding to your theft?" "Lie?" said Spurlock, astounded. "He called me a wanton, Hoddy. "It is droll," he said. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. ’ An expression of livid fury contorted the young man’s face and he thrust the coins back at the major. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling.
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