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. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. ‘I knew you would be furious. " "Nothing," echoed Wood furiously.
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