The next moment, a struggle was heard, and Blueskin appeared at the door, followed by Mrs. She pulled the door so that it was not quite to, and held out her hand, palm up. “Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground.
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