“Our ways happened to lie together. “I feared we might have a fog. 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 my shalvation, boy," he added, fiercely, "if you don't take your hande off my peard, I'll sthrangle you. All my life I've had to fight human wolves to hold what I have. Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime.
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