"Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam. 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. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. ” “I promise,” Annabel declared.
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