"I can," replied Trenchard. " Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished his glass, commenced chaunting a snatch of a ballad:— Once on a time, as I've heard tell. Thwart me, and I become your mortal enemy. It jars with all my ideas. "Well, Sir Rowland," he said, after a brief pause, during which the knight regarded him with a searching glance, as if endeavouring to recall his features, "I will not gainsay your words.
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