While he was thus employed, his nerves underwent a severe shock. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. There are way-stations—even terminals. ’ Then he bowed, raising his hat in salute and, crossing to the coach, spoke briefly to its driver and leapt into it without looking back. ‘Ah, well, we’ll check the back and then go home. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. She tore open the envelope and read it.
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