But Jonathan was not to be deterred. 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. If I told you the facts, I expect, since you are in love with me, you’d explain the whole business as being very fine and honorable for me—the Higher Morality, or something of that sort. I’m sorry Lucy. It is absolutely a frightful neighbourhood, this. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her.
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