" 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. “In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it. The thing is done. . She had started wearing the dresses he bought for her, the white and blue shift he said, “brings out the color in your eyes”. It’s a thing I’ve unaccountably overlooked. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. She looked up quickly. Parbleu, but what grandfathers I have!’ It was stalemate, Gerald thought, irrepressible amusement leaping into his chest. Now he thought she was so foolish that she knew only one stroke. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters.
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