1. 9. 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. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. " "Ay, but it is strange how much it resembles somebody for whom it's not intended. I don't think he'll come to himself too soon. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess.
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