The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. Only after he had pushed himself completely inside was the friction lessened. " "It's a hopeless job," grumbled Blueskin, "and harm will come of it. “The Chens must already be here. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. " "Prolonging the misery.
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