"I want you for the job I spoke of a short time ago, Nab," he said. "Come on, my lads!" vociferated Blueskin, "we'll unkennel the old fox. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry.
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