Spurling. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. Conscience drove him to this side of the world, to this bed. ” She dropped back into a crouching attitude and began to weep. ’ She raised the pistol. 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. CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait.
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