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Sir Rowland then fell. The occasion of all this confusion and dismay, meanwhile, remained perfectly motionless; his figure erect, and with somewhat of dignity in his demeanour. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose. ‘Espéce de diable,’ she screamed. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. She was interested by the swearing of the witnesses. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew.
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