\" She said. Lucy vomited onto the floor at the sight of her mother dying, the black spots expanding across her corpse. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. Very well. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, 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! II. "Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye. Anyway, I only smoke occasionally. "Help!—murder!—thieves!" screamed Mrs.
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