" "Willingly. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train. " "Heaven help her!" sighed Jack. ‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II.
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