Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. . 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. "So you did," replied the prize-fighter. " "Understand what?" "You or this girl. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment. He stood transfixed.
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