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She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, 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! II. ” She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him. "And you, Marvel, you must have been a party—" "I, Sir!" "If he's not found, I'll get a new hangman. You need fear no interruption from him, or any of his myrmidons.

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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 09-06-2024 05:45:04

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