Gianfrancesco had been talked into the arrangement only because the drivers that had handled the job for generations were sick or dead. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. Lucy's ears were singing. 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 we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday.
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