“My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. Anyhow, there was some pleasurable satisfaction in knowing where the quarry would be for the next three weeks.
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