Spurling. " "What am I to do to earn it?" asked Blueskin, with a disgusting leer,—"cut a throat—or throw myself at your feet—eh, my dear?" "Give me that child," returned the lady, with difficulty overcoming the loathing inspired by the ruffian's familiarity. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out. I will tell you what you shall give me, if you like.
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