" "If you're in earnest," rejoined Blueskin, "give me that bag of gold. Meysey Hill—never your wife. " "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. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. " "Swear it!" "I do. Perhaps I am still mad.
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