"Shall I fetch the light, Captain?" whispered Blueskin. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. ‘Ha!’ uttered Captain Roding triumphantly. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. Wood resounded from below. I have always been lonely. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression.
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