“Now replace the stone, my child. Ireton," cried Jack, in accents of the most urgent entreaty, "before you take me hence, I implore you—if you would further the ends of justice—search this house. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. But after that it was easy. The kiss was powerfully moving. Some of the hotel guests can act as witnesses. Not entirely. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. "Have you been more successful, Sir?" ventured Ireton. Darrell.
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