‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. ” “For example?” “Your dyed hair. They found a river pool and disrobed together as they had for hundreds of years. 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. ” She looked at him with uplifted eyebrows—a look of whimsical incredulity.
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