But never mind that. Wood!" "Leave go!" thundered Blueskin—"leave go—you'd better!"—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. "That's a good story, lad. It was a unique experience for her to wash him. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. You would not have the slightest difficulty.
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