He was a slim, poetic-looking chap with saintly eyes, not yet fifty, and might have been a muff if you hadn’t known that he’d walked over half Australia, dying of thirst most of the time, and his slight limp was a legacy of an Aborigine’s spear in his leg.
Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.33, Harper Collins, 1995.
Tags: Flashman, Flashman quotes, poetic.
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