" CHAPTER XIII. Of course this thing was absolutely impossible. 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. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. Leave me behind: I'm not afraid. ” His walk became a jovial saunter.
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