Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. "Nothin'—nothin'," returned Blueskin; "only I thought—" "You saw the hangman, no doubt," said Jack. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. Their conversation became stilted. She recalled that day of the typhoon and the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. "You heard me say it! It was inevitable. It was Blueskin.
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