“Cheer up, Annabel. Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath. You are going to accept a post as chorus girl, or super, or
something of that sort. "
"What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. We were properly married, and the certificate
is at my lawyer’s. “Shit happens, John. 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. Our quarrel's quite over. He's safe enough now.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 01-07-2024 03:07:57