" 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. That terrible Young Person! she’s vanished. Now I do. She mentally resolved to do her best to avoid personal encounters with him in that instant. My mother really wants to meet you. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. I must leave England to-night. ‘I do not know your Gérard. Grandmothers and grandfathers and uncles and aunts … to love and to coddle lonely little girls. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. I chose you for your strength, your cunning, your intelligence, your great beauty.
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