’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. It's my way when I'm ruffled. To be complete, my vengeance must be tardy. It might be dangerous to thwart him. By the side of her plate was a small key. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. "Go—go!" "I see what you mean," rejoined Blueskin, tossing a large case-knife, which he took from his pocket, in the air, and catching it dexterously by the haft as it fell; "you owe Jonathan a grudge;—so do I.
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