She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. "Then you'll never know more than this," retorted Blueskin, with a grin of satisfaction;—"they're in a place of safety, where you'll never find 'em, but where somebody else will, and that before long. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation.
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