" "Impossible," replied Sheppard, in the same tone. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. A woman indeed this to love and be loved, beautiful, graceful, gay. 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. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. ’ ‘And you do not know me. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 19-09-2024 05:27:05
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