I hated him. “Dear John,” she whispered. “Annabel Pellissier is known to most of us. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. Within that dungeon lay Captain Bew, Rumbold and Whitney—a jolly crew! All carved their names on the stone, and all Share the fate of the brave Du Val! With their chisels so fine, tra la! "Save us!" continued the apprentice, "I hope this beam doesn't resemble the Newgate stone; or I may chance, like the great men the song speaks of, to swing on the Tyburn tree for my pains.
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