“How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. ” “H’m!” said Ann Veronica, and shook her head. 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. I hope you will always love her, but I want you to remember she has offended your father and married without his consent.
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