He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. 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. You refuse me your confidence. The very blank, however, affected him more deeply than if it had been left. And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress. "There's a young woman. “And if I were you I would keep away from the fire. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say.
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