It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. 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. At this place of refuge, situated in the heart of Wapping, near the river-side, he arrived in less than an hour, in a complete state of exhaustion. Two hours had come and gone during this tantalizing occupation. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. And what's more, I promise to abide by his decision. “Round midnight, I think.
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This video was uploaded to theblogfullofgames.com on 17-09-2024 23:48:40
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