The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, 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! III. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. I’m so glad you’re not angry.
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