82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. “Lucy, that is so sad. We never supposed you helped yourself to a picture set with diamonds—not we!" "Is the guv'ner consarned in this job?" asked Terence, in a whisper. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. "If the best nag ever foaled were to throw me in this unlucky spot, I'd blow his brains out. " Romance! The Seven Seas are hers. "Not I," replied Blueskin.
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