” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself. "Her ladyship—" faltered the attendant. " 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. All her pride raged at me. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house.
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