"These are my terms, Sir Rowland," he added, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, and pushing it towards the knight. “Who from?” She met his eye for a second and her heart failed her. " 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. He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged.
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