. CHAPTER XIV. "Then you'll never know more than this," retorted Blueskin, with a grin of satisfaction;—"they're in a place of safety, where you'll never find 'em, but where somebody else will, and that before long. "And so I want the boy out of the way," he concluded. Critically, she stared at her own features. At any rate, I can see that you’re not protecting him at all. His attitude was as different from Gianfrancesco’s as night was from day. He dared not go on. He was an old, skilled vampire. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. "Shall I fetch it for you, Sir?" "By all means.
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