"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. Nevertheless she withdrew her hand. She rolled to one side. I don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. She made a slow tour of the front of the house without success, and then started back along the rooms behind, dragging open the drapes each time to get just enough light to recognise what was on the walls.
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