” Brendon hesitated for a moment. "I'm afraid, Jack, you'll come to the gallows," observed the smith; "buth if you do, I'll go to Tyburn to see you. That is very bad indeed. Sir Rowland laid his hand upon his sword. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. I have slept with it under my pillow.
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