’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. “Take off your tunic. " He patted her hand. The rest of the crowd followed suit with weak laughter. " "Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with startling eagerness. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. Gay. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. ‘But that is easy. We aren’t afraid; we don’t bother. Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a little refreshment.
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