Wood!" "Leave go!" thundered Blueskin—"leave go—you'd better!"—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. These things illuminated her situation extremely. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited.
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