Montague Hill. " 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. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. Do I, Bess, eh?" "Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess; "nobody but me, dear. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance.
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