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’ Lucilla gaped. 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. It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park. ’ ‘But—’ ‘You’ll get her all over blood again.
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