She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. I came to see you on my own account. "Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called.
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