It wasn't worth while to invest imaginatively a man with evil projects simply because he was physically ugly. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. " "Very well. 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 see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter.
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