We'll have him on his way before many days. Now let us forget it. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent.
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