Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. 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. And so she came upon the word Love.
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