. 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. “Of course he may merely have been telling her who we were, but I think it improbable. Horrible!" "Poor soul! her senses are going again," said Mr. ‘And that object confirms me in the belief that it is not I who will shortly meet my maker. ‘So it was. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe.
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