"But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. “Lucy, you have to play for us after dinner, oh please. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity.
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