"Coming!" cried Blueskin, who was still lingering with Rachel. “Whenever they try to take hold of life a man intervenes. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced.
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