Melusine saw fire in his eyes and a streak of heat rushed through her to match it. Michelle looked at their reflections in the wall mirror. She did not wait, but grabbed up the lantern and slid into the passage, calling to them to hurry. Eventually her movements carried her to the little stand at the side of the bed. 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.
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