“Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. "Sir Rowland is murdered!" cried Jack, as soon as he could find a tongue. By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. Earles strode into the waiting-room.
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