The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on. 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. As she came in this morning she saw that the lamp was still burning in the study; so she stopped at the door. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly.
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