On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet; a notion no sooner conceived than executed. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. Again returning to the main road, he passed through Clapton; and turning off on the left, arrived at the foot of Stamford Hill. I need you every day.
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