It shall be the bludgeon. 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. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. I don’t want you to be sad. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him.
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