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And he did not lack courage. " "I think I remember reading something about your father in the papers," observed Wood. " Without another word, and accompanied by Thames, he then took his way to Dollis Hill in a state of the deepest depression. People think it is, but they are wrong. 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. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-09-2024 22:56:54