Before there is any change, any real change, I shall be dead—dead—dead and finished—two hundred years!. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. He was offered the Bowl, but he left it and smiled, Crying, "Keep it till call'd for by JONATHAN WILD! "The rascal one day, "Will pass by this way, "And drink a full measure to moisten his clay! "And never will Bowl of Saint Giles have beguiled "Such a thorough-paced scoundrel as JONATHAN WILD!" V. For a second time Ann Veronica wanted to swear at the universe. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.
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