“Lighten up. "No Blueskin, I perceive, Sir," he observed, in a deferential tone, as Wild entered the Lodge. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. He was accustomed to such surprises, and enjoyed them. I mean Miss Charvill no harm.
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