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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. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. I walked London till the soles of my shoes were worn through, and my toes were blistered. “Hey, John.
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