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THE RECOGNITION PROCESSION.
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splendors and ever augmenting tempests of welcome; but to Tom Canty they were as if they had not been. He neither saw nor heard.
"SHE WAS AT HIS SIDE." Royalty had lost its grace and sweetness; its pomps were become a reproach. Remorse was eating his heart out. He said, "Would God I were free of my captivity!"
He had unconsciously dropped back into the phraseology of the first days of his compulsory greatness.
