“I shall be waiting for you there, and in the meantime, if you will help yourself—pray don’t look like that. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. It isn't friendly as I thought it would be. That’s one thing clear. Wild here presently. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. ’ Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning.
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