He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. “It is strange that we should have met Annabel,” she said. Oh, it is unbearable. Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off. Manning in fancy costume, as though he was a doll. ’ Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. “You are beautiful, Lucy. . 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.
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