It was cramped even at the end of the passage. 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. ’ Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a musket. See you in Science Class. " "And with some justice," replied Thornhill, drily.
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