Gray. Ever since I was born.
Gwin. And are doubtless well acquainted with the history of most of its inhabitants.
Gray. Aye, history, yes, I have seen proud knaves grovelling in the dust, and poor industry raised to wealth.
Gwin. You, my friend, do not seem to have belonged to the fortunate class.
Gray. No matter for that; but, Sir, take my word, you had better not put up at the Blake’s Head.
Gwin. And why not?
Gray. ’Tis full of company. The judges are now in the town to try the prisoners.
Gwin. Prisoners! you have, I trust, but few convictions—at least, for very great offences—for murder now, or—
Gray. Murder!—no—’tis now eighteen years—eighteen years this very day since—
Gwin. (abstractedly.) Eighteen years—it is—it is the day.