At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. "Bravo!" shouted Blueskin. He kissed her at the door.
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