She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. 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. The showers of Second Period Physical Education class became another front on the battleground. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. He cabled to New York: "Probable destination known. You're in luck to-night, widow.
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