"Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again. ” He was slightly tipsy. 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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