She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. ’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. "Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called. Still keeping ahead of his pursuers, he ran along the direct road, till the houses disappeared and he got into the open country. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable.
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