‘My dear Moore,—There is a small house in a dark and narrow corner of
London (Memory Hall, as it was once called by a reckless wight who has played
many a freak there and now sleeps in Harrow Churchyard) where
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‘To-morrow I leave it for three or four days, but I shall be there again on Tuesday the 29th of June, and pray come as soon as you can. Whether I am returned or not, you will be cordially and hospitably entertained. If somebody else comes with you, I shall be delighted. Pray persuade her.