” “Nor I,” said Ann Veronica. “It is so difficult,” she murmured, “so impossible to explain. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. “How well and jolly you must be feeling. C.
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