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’ You were to be kidnapped from the Manor in early July, but you took matters into your own hands in March. There MULSACK and SWIFTNECK, both prigs from their birth, OLD MOB and TOM COX took their last draught on earth: There RANDAL, and SHORTER, and WHITNEY pulled up, And jolly JACK JOYCE drank his finishing cup! For a can of ale calms, A highwayman's qualms, And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! "Singing's dry work," observed the stranger, pausing to take a pull at the bottle. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. “Bother!” and decided that this was not so, and would not look to right or left again. “It seems—It’s interesting.

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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 19-09-2024 17:55:59

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