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I give you the plain, unadulterated truth. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. Little more’n a week. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. 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. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows.
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