Spurling," said Jonathan, who overheard the whisper, "you owe your situation to me. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful. " "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge. See? You marry me.
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