"No, no, Sir," replied Ireton. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. "Oh gracious! he's lost. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington. He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. After venting his wrath in the wildest manner, and uttering the most dreadful execrations, Jonathan retired to another part of the prison, where he passed the night in consultation with the governor, as to the best means of conveying the prisoner securely to Tyburn.
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