" "You'll never live to see that day," cried Blueskin, fixing a menacing look upon him. White rang the bell. He got up. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her.
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