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. ’ *** Mrs Chalkney, a long-time friend of the late Mrs Alderley, had been delighted to oblige that lady’s son. ” He said happily. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated. “Not much,” he answered, “and yet about all there is to be known, I fancy.
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