When he could find words, he tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon the constable to let him out. Don't you hear how you've made it cry?" "Throttle the kid!" rejoined Blueskin, fiercely. "Speak, or I fire!" "Well, if you will have it, it's Sir Rowland Trenchard. Her nerves were shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock. But for him——” Something in her sister’s tone startled Anna. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally. They had as many designations as grades. But though he made Blueskin and Kettleby his chief marks, he missed both. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself.
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