” “I will tell him,” Lady Lescelles said. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. 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. ” “Why in Heaven’s name should I forget?” he cried. ‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. "But you are a good man, and you'll understand.
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