" 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. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. She went next day to the schools, and her world seemed all made of happiness just worked up roughly into shapes and occasions and duties. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. . " She kindled with sympathy. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door.
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