At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. "Can't I settle this business, Captain," muttered Blueskin, drawing a pistol. " "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape.
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