At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. "Your sympathy is being wasted. " 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. " "It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. Mike sat down, his body too large for the petite blue couch. "Please hurry the ammonia;" and Ruth turned away abruptly.
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