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The Press Room, to which Blueskin was conveyed on his arrival at the jail, was a small square chamber, walled and paved with stone. “They seem to come to you as naturally as disappointment—to other people. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. “But that’s quite different,” replied Anna. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible.
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