He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. " "I shouldn't call her queer. By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. ‘You are really not helping matters, my friend.
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