Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. "But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. "Here are some more papers, Captain. I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom.
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