As concertmaster, it was Lucy’s duty to seat the orchestra as well as tune them. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. "Jonathan Wild and Blueskin have got him into their hands," continued Mrs. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. ’ He gestured towards the fulminating general.
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