" "Perhaps he is from Lord Derwentwater, or Mr. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. But Blueskin found it impossible to make off,—at least with the spoil,—Mrs. . Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. "If you two loved each other," went on the doctor, "there would be something to stand on—a reason why for this madness. He would know the truth then once and for all.
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