Anna stood looking down upon her sister with grave perturbed face. Wood!" "Leave go!" thundered Blueskin—"leave go—you'd better!"—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. “Damn! Things are getting plainer.
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