" "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. I—listen. Lucia dismissed the rumors, as it was not likely an archbishop would renege on his duties to become her personal doctor. A bad sign; it signified that the heart action was in a precarious state. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. Now I’ll tell you what I propose. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep. . "But I like Bobby Burns best. "Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request.
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