Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. Austin could scarcely credit his senses when he beheld him. "Well," growled Blueskin, "you've had my offer. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. Finding all attempts at conversation with his companion in misfortune in vain, Wood, in order to distract his thoughts, looked up at the gigantic structure standing, like a wall of solid darkness, before him.
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