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Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?”
“I certainly am,” she admitted. Lucy snatched it up and put it in
her pack. It would be the
wrappered world almost at its best. But all this business has
driven it clean out of my head. But Darrell averted his head. 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.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 23-06-2024 23:37:46