He thought rationally; that is to say, he thought clearly, as a child thinks clearly. Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. Pioneers all of them. By policemen one mustn’t shock. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. Yes, very well. ‘But I will tell you this, mon vieux. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica.
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