The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. She held out her hand frankly. I don’t know if I express myself clearly. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady.
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