It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense. He bent over to Anna at once. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image. 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 looked about for his hat, and put it on. Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape. She was gone.
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