The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. She, having all the confidence in the world, ripped off an end and drew out the contents—a letter and a check. I came here peaceably, and I only ask for a few words with you. 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. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle.
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