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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. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible. Chairs were overturned. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 00:24:04