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Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. I have always hated it. Think! You could not have done it. Cathy sighed. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. ‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival.
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