“But I am judge of that,” said Manning. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. She wanted to turn him. “Yes,” she said at last, “it is firm and affectionate. In any case, there was no doing anything on a Sunday and Brewis Charvill, his main quarry, had gone out of town unexpectedly. 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.
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