"Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. Wood the carpenter. 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. "Your faults were the faults of circumstances. " Trenchard took up a pen. ’ Exasperated, Gerald glared at her. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe.
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