. ’ Noting the twinkle in her great-aunt’s eye, Melusine forebore to comment, grateful to Lucilla for adjuring Captain Roding to give an account of himself. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. " "I will," replied Sheppard, dashing the glass from his hand. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. Wouldn't take my advice.
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