But Blueskin was not to be silenced. Mr. Stanley. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. "Let us sit here," she said, indicating the white sand bordering the lagoon; "and in a minute or two you will see something quite wonderful. This key," he added, taking it from the boy, "was purloined from me by your father, Jack. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account.
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