” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. ’ Charvill eyed the girl with resentment. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. Still —there you are!” He paused. "Coming!" cried Blueskin, who was still lingering with Rachel. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter.
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