Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. " "Why, surely you don't think your guests would steal them," observed Rachel, archly. ’ ‘Excellent,’ Gerald had approved. "What of her?" cried the knight. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. .
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