" 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. Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. Sheppard," said Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his palms before the scanty flame. To think of him as loving her would make all that different. He returned to attend the funeral.
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