\" \"Not this Saturday, sweetie. " "Impossible!" rejoined his mother. “It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. By his side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay. 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.
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