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. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. Gosse were you born, and Gosse will you remain to your death. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. 7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1. "Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than all the rest," cried the carpenter, rubbing his eyes. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. ” “We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality in his gruff voice.
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