” “Men,” said Miss Miniver, “NEVER have a reason. 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. Recovery impossible. She laughed. I believe I’m the only sane member of the family left. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. " "What's the meaning of all this?" demanded Sir Cecil. ’ ‘Precisely.
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