Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. At this moment, Blueskin came up, and kept off the officers with his knife. I've already told you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more than probable I shall never return. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket.
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