His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. Nevertheless Sydney, clumsily, but earnestly, had something to say about it. "Fear nothing, Sir," said the man, in a voice which Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her. I do not intend to allow you to forget.
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