"Let me go first," said Blueskin; "the dogs know me. " "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. Michelle smiled. “He would never have found you out if you had not personated me. But the Ramage affair needed clearing up, of course; it was a flaw upon that project. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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