He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. “That is my dream of you,” said Manning, warming. 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 nodded. Neither you nor your mother shall escape me. She was in deadly earnest in everything she did. "Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 06-07-2024 21:23:20
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