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His commissions this day would not fill his metal pipe with one wad of tobacco. "What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild. 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. ’ Melusine knew it to be true. " "At least, I will hope so," returned Winifred. Ennison paused by the little gate. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses.
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