‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. “She can’t go now. 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. “It really is not necessary. I saw the motor dashed to pieces against the wall, and I saw him pitched on his head into the road. ‘That’s right, you bone idle do-nothings. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. The third time she escaped she reached the inconsequent barricade of the overturned table. And you are something of a heroine, too. Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you've not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return. Anything that might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all.
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