But that explains everything. She is the wife now of another man. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. His clothes had evidently seen some service, and were plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop. "Fear nothing, Sir," said the man, in a voice which Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin.
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