“Well, my girl, I wish you had thought about all these things before these bothers began. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill.
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