Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year. “I’ll have to pay it. 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. John picked it up and put it in her hands.
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