" CHAPTER XV. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. She found him reclined, watching television in a small guest room hidden in a back wing of the massive house. “I will make all things possible. It was his particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given him a remarkable appraising eye. 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 something of the feeling a Hindoo must experience who has been into surroundings or touched something that offends his caste.
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