Then you have altered not only that, but your manner of dressing it. "Let me go," cried Winifred. Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am myself. " 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. But she did not speak. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment. She had made her first fight for dignity and freedom as a grown-up and independent Person, and this was how the universe had treated her.
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