Having no more patience, I drew you aside to give you a compliment on your radiant beauty. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. “I am giving my understudy a chance. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. “To Hell if we don’t change our ways. .
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