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. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. This is my friend, Mr. 1. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island.
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