To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. ‘Seems to me like you know just about as much as me. You are right. I had a perfect shoal of callers. “Annabel;” he moaned. 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. "Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly.
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