He went on with his song, accompanying it with the most ridiculous grimaces: "When years were gone by, she began to rue Her love for the gentleman, (meaning you!) 'I slighted the journeyman fond,' quoth she, 'But where is my gallant of high degree? Where! where! Oh! where is my gallant of high degree?' Ho! ho! ho!" "What are you doing here!" demanded Thames. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject. He was always in a state of semi-intoxication, but he was always gentle with me.
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