"Two hundred pounds!" exclaimed Ireton, "besides the governor's offer—that's three hundred. I barely prevailed sometimes, but in the end, my wits were faster than their steel. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. They both listened intently. This foster child’s name was Mary Lucia Iovelli, and we have photographic documents of a woman who looks exactly like you, dear. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. He could have her in the car but she preferred a more private setting.
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