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. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. “We mustn’t have any unpleasantness, and Mr. My janizaries shall go with me. Wood obeyed. Melusine was silent, revolving this outcome in her mind as she stared at Roding, who was frowning at her in a puzzled way.
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