Sebastian leapt down into the crypt. The Press Room, to which Blueskin was conveyed on his arrival at the jail, was a small square chamber, walled and paved with stone. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. “With your permission,” he said to Anna, “I shall arrange a bed for him where he is. We were to have breakfast there and return in the evening.
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