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’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. A woman such as I am might help take care of Mr. "Come along, Blueskin. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. Get it off your soul. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. Kneebone," returned Shotbolt.
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