” The conversation hung. 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. "Do not despair!" echoed Mrs. ’ ‘That wasn’t my fault. Sir Rowland witnessed these proceedings like one stupified. " "I don't require it," returned Sheppard. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. It's a bad omen to be thrown near that door.
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