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. She entered the room in the shadows. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. . "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. She did not have to investigate that his door was locked. It was the largest room in the house, which was why it had been given over to the main business of the convent as a house of God. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. For the young, immortality must seem promising, even wonderful! The grass is always greener on the other side. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she.
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