"He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. "Now's your time," cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window.
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