Sheppard, fleeing from him to the farthest corner of the room. His literary instincts were reviving. 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 frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly.
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