" 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. ” “You came—here!” he repeated, vaguely. White?” she asked, laughing. She gurgled. Babies and females have got to keep hold of somebody or go under—anyhow, for the next few generations. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood.
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