"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. "One of us has got to die," he panted. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. " "If you're in earnest," rejoined Blueskin, "give me that bag of gold.
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