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 could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. If only you could see the people who have been to call on me! Sir John has the most absurd ideas, too. . “We will see that he doesn’t follow you. And in the vestry was the sword of monsieur le major. Parbleu, but she was a fool. The key is in my trousers.
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