Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. "I wouldn't give a betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed himself in the right. ‘And that object confirms me in the belief that it is not I who will shortly meet my maker. I see. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. “A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. .
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