He singled out my poor husband from a crowd of other felons; and you know how right he was in that case, Sir. Gave me a purse, and told me to take both of ’em up to Harwich and put them on a packet for Holland. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Some of your sex, I mean. That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. . ” “Then don’t talk to me now.
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