She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. Men have seen to that. " 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. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. "Where are you going?" she asked. “Go from me, husband!” With a flourish he brought her arms behind her and her body was slammed to the floor. And, come what will, I'll balk him of the satisfaction of hanging me.
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