82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. Drawing his hanger he rode amongst the crowd, trampled upon those most in advance, and made an attempt to seize their leader, in whom he recognised Blueskin. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. Smith decidedly the plainest of the two.
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