She kept trying to shut her legs, to stop the baby from coming out. 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. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. ’ ‘But in pursuit of information, Hilary, I am prepared to sacrifice my preferences,’ Gerald told him.
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