He uttered a short laugh. "Let me go first," said Blueskin; "the dogs know me. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. He resented being regarded as irregular. But his lips were honourlocked. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure.
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