" "No—no," laughed Jack. 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. All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him. She must speak to Jack. Run along while I rig up and get the part in my hair straight. Parbleu, but she was a fool. CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. ’ ‘Don’t you believe it.
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