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"Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. "Where did you get this from?" asked Wild, greatly surprised at the result of his investigation. “Yeah, where the hell were you? My friends would have driven you home when I came home if I could have found you. "He seems infatuated about the lad," observed Wild. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy.
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