A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes. "He must have gone this way," muttered Blueskin. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. "Another time," replied the thief-taker, evasively. She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk.
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