" CHAPTER XIII. I do not think that I have the Bohemian spirit at all. Not alone with her, that’s sure. But Blueskin was not to be silenced. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. "I'll not believe it. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. "Have a moment's patience, Sir Rowland," returned Wild; "and you shall hear. ’ Gerald grinned.
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