Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. It slid off flimsily. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. See paragraph 1. ’ ‘Not French?’ echoed Hilary.
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