Well, while we were smoking our pipes, and quaffing our punch, Alsatia turns to me and says, 'Mint,' says he, 'you're well off here. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. Tell him the truth, Annabel. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song.
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