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John’s best friend’s parents were to be out of town again, he reported. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. " "It won't. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. ’ No Latin? And no guns or daggers, naturally. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. He was offered the Bowl, but he left it and smiled, Crying, "Keep it till call'd for by JONATHAN WILD! "The rascal one day, "Will pass by this way, "And drink a full measure to moisten his clay! "And never will Bowl of Saint Giles have beguiled "Such a thorough-paced scoundrel as JONATHAN WILD!" V.
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