"Let me go first," said Blueskin; "the dogs know me. If Emile can see him, then so also can I. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. "Mr. “Can’t you SEE how things are?” she said.
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