Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. Whatever happened she need never return to that possibility. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. But for perfect satisfaction, he must take a peek into the bedroom. This was Blueskin, who burst through the trees, and sword in hand assaulted the thief-taker.
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