The occasion of all this confusion and dismay, meanwhile, remained perfectly motionless; his figure erect, and with somewhat of dignity in his demeanour. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. He continued tenderly, almost affectionately. “You see,” said Ann Veronica, with the air of one who shares a difficulty, “I’ve promised to go.
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