It's gin—a liquor you used to like. In military circles, highly exaggerated tales of Major Alderley’s derring-do were bruited from lip to lip and passed on to raw recruits to strengthen morale. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. “Nothing so base. I put my foot down like—like adamant. The bridge was open. If ever I could bring myself to ask you any favour, I would ask you to forget even as I have forgotten.
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