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 thrust him out of the room and made for the stairs. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. Michelle waved to her, then flitted over to where she was sitting.
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