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 positioned it over her arm, placing the firing end in Rhea’s mouth. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. She opened her mouth and inhaled water. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. His car was there. " "Here you have it, my dear," returned the hawker. When he had finished he took up the wine list and ordered a bottle of dry champagne.
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