The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. 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. By the side of her plate was a small key. Yet, I suppose that at the present moment I am the most envied man in the room. Blueskin, however, was not unattended. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her.
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