’ ‘Bravo,’ applauded Lucilla, clapping her hands. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. ” She replied. His tone was kind and sympathetic. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow.
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