‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. Uttering a terrible imprecation, Blueskin placed the knife between his teeth, and endeavoured to seize the poor woman by the throat. I set myself to find employment. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. "What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild. This obstacle removed, he thought he might now make the attempt.
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