“I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. " His demeanour was polished; his manners singularly affable and gentle; and he was remarkable, for the generosity of his temper. ” “I’ve been certain of it for years. ” He reeled out of the room. The Well Hole. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. 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. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair.
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