” He was arrested for a moment by an indistinct picture of Veronica reading this last sentence. Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure that no one was listening. 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. “Surely Lady Ennison would object, even if it were possible.
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