1. They had been married for well over one hundred years. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II. And the food! She and Marina had done most of the cooking at home. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. This year—I’ve got it badly. I beg that you will consider me your friend. Sheppard, shuddering violently. The Bach Cantata was played fairly well, Sebastian thought, for a lot of children.
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