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. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. She recalled that she had heard nothing that first time when Gerald and the captain had burst in upon her. Jackson’s.
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