So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis 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 haven't forgotten her previous history. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind.
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