” He nodded. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. CHAPTER XXVII. " "I am a thief, nevertheless. "Then you'll never know more than this," retorted Blueskin, with a grin of satisfaction;—"they're in a place of safety, where you'll never find 'em, but where somebody else will, and that before long. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me. “Well, rather,” said Ann Veronica. .
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