He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. And then her pace slackened. Businesswomen in pointy-toed shoes swooned coyly in his direction, tipping their noses over their glossy magazines to admire 273 him. Occasionally he relit his pipe. It was finished by the end of that year, each character having asserted itself pronouncedly in my imagination. 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. "Thank you; but I've a pocket full of water-chestnuts. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband.
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