Light the lantern. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. 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. ’ ‘Then you will not be disappointed. I'm going to be frank; we must have a clear understanding.
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