’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. . Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague.
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