“I do,” Anna answered. 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. "Gad! it's a devilish fine face when lit up. ” “Well, I have two,” said Mr. ‘I can argue with him very well indeed. “Let me think,” said Ann Veronica.
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