Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. "Two hundred pounds!" exclaimed Ireton, "besides the governor's offer—that's three hundred. They had heard nothing, seen nothing. Supposing the wire should break and her head tumble off her shoulders into the street? The whimsey caused another smile to ripple across her lips. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. I love everything to-day, and all of you, but I love this, this—this innocence upon us most of all. \"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face.
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