—Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. "Thus," replied the prize-fighter. . ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. Not a word passed between them. . He took up his hat and went. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand.
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