'—'They can't,' says I. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. Saint Giles's Round-house. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. You need have no apprehensions about him, Sir Rowland. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked.
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