” He hesitated, and walked away from her toward the house. . 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. She had just managed to reach it, grabbing for the handle, when the enemy’s cracked command halted her. “I’m really very sorry. As for himself, there had never been a touch of it.
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