These were yarns! As he was about to slip the manuscripts into the envelope, something caught his eye: by Howard Spurlock. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Stanley being bored and feeling limited. 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. "But, I own, I think it is like. She started at the falling of a leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge. There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors.
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