" "There you are, just as I said. It will serve you out if I give her dagger back to mademoiselle, so that she can plunge it right into your chest. God, how old are they now? They must be teenagers. Give me your staff. " 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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