"These are my terms, Sir Rowland," he added, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, and pushing it towards the knight. She didn’t choose her man. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. Baffled in their attempt, the mob uttered a roar, such as only a thousand angry voices can utter, and discharged a volley of missiles at the soldiery.
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