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“Never mind me. ” “I am convinced of it,” she answered. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. I'll knock off at tea. The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 05:59:04