Gerald crossed back to the window. "But I have one last request to make. It's too hard. 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. It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret. He would make her rub her lips with waxes and other ointments, precursors of lipsticks.
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