"It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. Suddenly remembering Kimble, her heart thudded with excitement. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. What was his problem, she thought to herself. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword.
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