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But Blueskin was not to be silenced. We both understood that. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. It fell to the ground and smoked ominously.

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