And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. "Now's your time," cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife. Jonathan had not deceived him. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object.
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