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For Ruth was in love, tenderly and beautifully in love; but she did not know how
to express it beyond the fetch and carry phase. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper
folded round his throat. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. “The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be
lovers in the ordinary sense. " And he struck up the
following ballad:—
SAINT GILES'S BOWL. “The unaccountable thing is that I wouldn’t go home to
please her. ”
“Do you mean,” Courtlaw asked, “that from now to the end of the six months
you do not wish to see us—any of us?”
Her eyes were a little dim again. They had not to tarry long. I am guilty practically of the
impertinence of coming to ask you whether I misunderstood your sister. Anna lied to you, I lied to you. "What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily. ”
Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood;
And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood;
A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows,
Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows,
Might tipple strong beer,
Their spirits to cheer,
And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear!
For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles!
II.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 13-07-2024 16:51:22