"Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. “I was born there. She had gladly lowered her eyes as she had been instructed to in front of the fine ladies and lords, as she was more interested in their clothing and fripperies than their faces. “Yes. ‘What else do you expect? It’s the penalty you pay for marrying an Englishman. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. " Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished his glass, commenced chaunting a snatch of a ballad:— Once on a time, as I've heard tell. "Is it poison?" she asked.
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