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Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. "He acts queerly, too. 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. "Of course, therefore," pursued Jonathan, "you are acquainted with all the leaders of the proposed insurrection,—nay, must be in correspondence with them. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. She paused for a moment. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. She did not forge a note. " "So am I.
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