Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. Quilt Arnold was stationed at the stair-head, near which the boat containing the captive boy was moored. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. 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.
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