“Come on in, Michelle. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. He looked about for his hat, and put it on. 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. The stranger looked at him as if strongly disposed to chastise his impertinence.
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