You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes. And, when I have seen him pining away before my eyes, getting thinner and thinner every day, I have sometimes thought my prayers were heard. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. I came back to say, that I've placed your nephew in a coach; and, if you'll be at my lock in the Old Bailey an hour after midnight, you shall hear the last tidings of him.
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