’ ‘Parbleu,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up in some dudgeon. 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. "Then I presume you've not been arrested?" "I have not," answered Wood firmly. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up. ” He took up his hat. Heaven alone knows why. " "Oh, that!" He raised his head, staring at her in blank astonishment. I am quite clear about this. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary.
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