For all the enervating heat, he applied himself vigorously to his tasks. “Let me get you some water, Annabel. " 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. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. I would love to think of how beautiful your children will be!” “I want to be with you. And son of a pig,’ she grunted, baring her teeth.
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