A thousand dollars is a lot of money for an author to earn. Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room.
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