A nurse was at the other end of the room. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. But it was only six-thirty. "Set down the kid," roared Blueskin, savagely.
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