Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. "Mr. A long shrill cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal. He was an odd one, especially for a young man. But d—n him! let's talk o' something more agreeable. " Ah Cum shrugged.
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