Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. Ennison’s acquaintance. 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. An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. ‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it.
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