Her family are solid West End people, Kensington people. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. . 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. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune.
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