At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. He saw rifts in clouds—sunshine. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, 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! III.
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