His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. ’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. "Done!" cried Shotbolt. Coat, on the present occasion, he had none, it being more convenient, as well as agreeable to him, to pursue his avocations in his shirtsleeves; but, when fully equipped, he wore a large-cuffed, long-skirted garment, which had once been the property of his master.
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