At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. He glanced at his watch. 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 is not at all comme il faut. But still she knew they were not right, and at times they became a horrible obsession as of something waiting for her round the corner. When she had finished the first tale, there was a sense of disappointment. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. It was his belief that the French had enough troubles of their own in these difficult times without bothering to nose out British business. "Open the door, I say, or I'll burst it open. Remember that I’ve seen Brewis Charvill, and I’m well aware of your identity. '" "What is that?" she asked. " "Time will show," replied Jack with equal haughtiness. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. They reluctantly went back to school the Thursday after New Year’s Day.
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