You understand me, I’m sure. I had no idea even that she was a friend of yours. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. He hadn't played fair. 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. Winifred, accordingly, left the room, and a servant being despatched to the nearest tavern, soon afterwards returned with a crown bowl of the ambrosian fluid. “Thank you.
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