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. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. I know exactly what I am doing. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged. ” Chapter V “ALCIDE” Courtlaw took up his hat and coat at once, but Anna motioned him to remain.
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