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It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. " "Enough!" rejoined Blueskin. . ” Lucy said softly. ” “You have her face and figure,” he muttered. ” It was as if she faced a darkness in which was something very beautiful and wonderful as yet unimagined. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. " Casting one look of anguish at his leader, Blueskin then darted down the passage. Not if I read her aright. Both of them.
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