‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. ‘Pray do not trouble yourself, Saling. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. “I am giving my understudy a chance. Quick! Quick!" The order was only just given in time. Wood, contemptuously. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned.
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