He gently took the roses from her and laid them on the pillow. " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. ‘Let it fall!’ ‘Brute!’ she spat, struggling, and he knew at once he had guessed aright. His suspicions at first fell upon you. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. ” “I’m afraid it can’t. You represented to us the immaculate Briton, the one Englishman who typified the Saxonism, if I may coin a word, of our race. "I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp. His subjects, however, were no longer entirely under his control; and, though he managed to enforce some little attention to his commands, it was evident his authority was waning fast.
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