" 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. It comes over the mountains, Anna, pink darkening into orange red, everywhere a wonderful cloud sea, scintillating with colour. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. He resolved to judge for himself. I do, however. \"You cannot know how frustrated I have become.
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