He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. " 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. As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder. That window there…. The one nearest to her, which must lead to the library. ” “Yes. .
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