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His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. Come in! Come in, do. 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 was enough that Spurlock had been taken aboard The Tigress. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. It did not occur to her that they at least had found a way of earning a living, and had that much economic superiority to herself. The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy. These galleries were separated in the middle by iron grates. People were passing in the street below.
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