"No, no, Sir," replied Ireton. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. Besides, how am I to ride home without them?" "Don't distress yourself," returned Jack, "you shall walk. ” She scoffed. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. What does she look like?’ ‘Black hair. ” She said as the car stopped. . The rainstorm, short-lived, began to subside. " "Swear it!" "I do.
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