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. Stimulated by the promise of something handsome to drink, the man acquitted himself to admiration in the management of his lazy cattle. Tell me all that happened, one sister-woman to another. Half French. "Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords. “You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. I had no idea even that she was a friend of yours. Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city.
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