“You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone. He said that for him beauty justified life, that he could not imagine a good action that was not a beautiful one nor any beautiful thing that could be altogether bad. Prudence shook her head. A mate? A brother-lover to tromp about the world with? “I cannot. Before any assistance could be rendered by the jailers, who stood astounded, Blueskin had got Wild in his clutches. I pledged my thumb that, dead or alive, I'd pay the wager if I lost; and I should like to be as good as my word.
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