He filled the rôle of comrade which Spurlock dared not enact, at least not utterly as he would have liked. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. “I can say no more. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. She rose from her chair, and began walking up and down the room restlessly. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh.
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