At Anna’s words she seemed suddenly to stiffen. Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. The Press Room, to which Blueskin was conveyed on his arrival at the jail, was a small square chamber, walled and paved with stone.
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