"Fly, Captain, fly!" vociferated Blueskin; "I shan't be able to keep these devils down. ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. I must practise what I preach.
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