"What say you to carrying her off, Captain?" suggested Blueskin. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. I told him I would bring him to the gallows, and I was as good as my word. For her pride’s sake, and to save herself from long day-dreams and an unappeasable longing for her lover, Ann Veronica worked hard at her biology during those closing weeks. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. "I have saved the executioner a labour, by cutting his throat," replied Blueskin.
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