“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. Let alone a girl. By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 09:52:59