The constable, Sharples, is in my pay. 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. Wood's house was broken into and plundered. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor.
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