You will be—my wife. You’re a good friend. "What say you to carrying her off, Captain?" suggested Blueskin. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters. ‘Nevertheless, you will marry me,’ he snarled. He found the horse where Thames told him he would find him, mounted, and rode off across the fields in the direction of town.
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