He lit a cigarette and loitered about. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. Stanley admired and detested him in almost equal measure. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. I found the door locked as usual, but when we entered this room everything was as you see. 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. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. And what was singular she did not recount to the doctor that morning's adventure. There is light enough from the sun,’ she said, relieved. ‘Ha! Just the person I want.
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