" "Come, jump up," cried Blueskin, mounting his steed, "and I'll soon wisk you to town. But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. ” “Poor you!” said Ann Veronica. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. The pistol, it was not loaded.
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