“But—” The long inconsecutive conversation by that time was getting on her nerves. “I may not see the Widgetts for some little time, father,” she said. He was inclined to be a good-natured person, and he had no nervous fears of receiving a snub. Drawing his hanger he rode amongst the crowd, trampled upon those most in advance, and made an attempt to seize their leader, in whom he recognised Blueskin. It was a shame that they had made such a fuss, she thought as he arrived.
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