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I said to myself, ‘this will come. He ignored her protests in order to pursue some impressive line of his own. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. There was little fighting spirit here. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. Whatever she does is minimized. And I think also that Gosse—I mean that one who calls himself Valade—stole it. And with his clenched hand he struck him a violent blow in the face.
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