“But you must forgive me, John. " "You would, if you had seen what I have. " 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. The passage was so narrow that there was only sufficient room for the cart to pass, with a single line of foot-soldiers on one side; and, as the walls of the bridge were covered with spectators, it was not deemed prudent to cross it till these persons were dislodged. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. " "Too proud, eh?" rejoined the prize-fighter. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea.
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