Nothing is of any concern of ours except the discovery of the man’s identity. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. " "Exactly my sentiments," rejoined Blueskin. He introduced her as his \"friend\" Lucy. People who would not go. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. Presently, however, a sudden movement occurred, and disclosed his features, which were those of a young man of nearly his own age.
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