In military circles, highly exaggerated tales of Major Alderley’s derring-do were bruited from lip to lip and passed on to raw recruits to strengthen morale. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. "There's the exact expression I want. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. ’ The girl held out her hands. I understand nothing of what you say.
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