" "What am I to do to earn it?" asked Blueskin, with a disgusting leer,—"cut a throat—or throw myself at your feet—eh, my dear?" "Give me that child," returned the lady, with difficulty overcoming the loathing inspired by the ruffian's familiarity. Then instantly she got out of bed and proceeded to dress. And lunged once more. "I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. Well, I'll take myself off.
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