He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. Think, ma’am. "On that night,—in this room,—in your presence, Blueskin,— in yours Mr. Thanks. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen.
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