She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. "Good-bye, Mac. " 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. ’ Colour suffused the man’s face. . ” “Well?” Anna remarked calmly.
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