So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. " "I'll go with you," said Blueskin. From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked.
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