It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. "I release you from your promise. I can’t love you. ’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls. For a few moments Mr. Neither he nor Gerald chose to attire themselves in full military rig on fashionable occasions such as this. 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 sure he'll do his best to content you.
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