“I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. She bent down. Wood the best of wives. . It would not have been for her an anomaly to read a love story in which there were no kisses. Instead of which, more than half an hour has elapsed. 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. . Ennison looked down on him in disgust. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. ” She commented, only to herself.
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