Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. “I am so sorry. 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. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. Spurling has induced him to sit down again.
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