Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. Kneebone, who had drained his glass to the restoration of the house of Stuart, and the downfall of the house of Hanover, more frequently than was consistent with prudence, consented; and the trio set out for Wych Street, where they arrived in the jolliest humour possible. The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. They trudged and talked, and Manning struggled, as he said, to “get the hang of it all. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. Words of encouragement and sympathy were addressed to Jack, who, as he looked around, beheld many a friendly glance fixed upon him. ’ ‘Yes, but how are you going to find her?’ ‘I will ask—’ She broke off. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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