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. " "It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. "Put your arms about me. A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. "I'll fetch it. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. She hesitated about her name, and, being prompted, gave it at last as Ann Veronica Smith, 107A, Chancery Lane. " "Damnation!" cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage.
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