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There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. “Do you mind very much?” He shook his head. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. Then he put the paper by. Still —there you are!” He paused. ” “No, I wanted to talk to you, Lucy, to invite you to a dinner party. 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. One cannot trust any man at all.
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