When Claude Du Val was in Newgate thrown, He carved his name on the dungeon stone; Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall, "You have carved your epitaph, Claude Du Val, With your chisel so fine, tra la!" "This S wants a little deepening," mused the apprentice, retouching the letter in question; "ay, that's better. My, um, my curfew. A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. And here you are!” Her aunt opened all the fingers of her gloved hand in a rhetorical gesture.
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