Is it an old ring?” he asked, returning it. " A deep indignant groan followed. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves. She listened with dumb fear in her eyes. Tell me where the fellow Hill took you for this marriage ceremony. Then came the shock of the knowledge that soon he would be going upon his way, that there would be no one to depend upon her; and all the old loneliness came smothering down upon her again. The note-passer lagged behind with her. . . 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. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction.
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