‘Don’t be too sure,’ responded Major Gerald Alderley on a dry note. "My head fairly turns round. I've a couple of kinchens in yonder rattler, whom I wish to place under old Sharples's care. ” She laid her hand softly upon his. Couldn’t make head nor tail of that note of yours. " 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.
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