There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. ’ She glared at Hilary. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. CHAPTER XIX. Also she made little pussy-like sounds of a reassuring nature. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind.
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