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" Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. As a matter of fact I have been waiting for you. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. ’ She grimaced.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 08:40:49