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I knew him in spite of his dress. " 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. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left. ‘You have made a serious mistake, Melusine.
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