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. I'll have a peep at him, if I die for it," she muttered, as she went out. The hard work will be his, until we yank this young fellow back from the brink. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. I want to make myself visible to you.
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