A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. 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. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated. John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat. “Stop! Don’t put your face there. You must be lonely here with only a few men friends.
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