Byrom,—a poet of whom his native town, Manchester, may be justly proud; and his features and figure have been preserved by the most illustrious of his companions on the present occasion,—Hogarth,—in the levée in the "Rake's Progress," and in "Southwark Fair. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual. “Mary!” He whispered loudly. Opening the door he then stepped into a dark narrow passage leading, as he was well aware, to the chapel. “We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said.
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