” At the sight of her tears his expression changed to a mingling of triumph and concern. On Thursday we embark for South America. I somehow understood. You will go to London?” “It is necessary,” she answered. “It’s either now or never,” said Ann Veronica, again ascending this stile. 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.
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