‘Go on up to the boy, my dear. “Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. But somehow he could not bring any of these affairs to an orderly end. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful.
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