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He had heard nothing. “He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. A. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. At this moment, Blueskin appeared with the lamp, and revealed a horrible spectacle,—the floor deluged with blood,—various articles of furniture upset,—papers scattered about,—the murdered man's cloak, trampled upon, and smeared with gore,—his hat, crushed and similarly stained,—his sword,—the ensanguined cloth,—with several other ghastly evidences of the slaughterous deed. “I’m sorry. The child was now within reach; and, in another moment, he would have executed his deadly purpose, if an arm from behind had not felled him to the ground.
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