It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. "What do you want with me?" "A word in private," replied the other. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. "I will struggle no longer with destiny.
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