” He took an optimist view of her chances. He put it carefully aside, resolved to defer the attempt till night. ’ She stopped, her lips tightening. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. 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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