’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her. " "Dog!" exclaimed Quilt, turning fiercely upon him, "do you threaten?" But the watchman eluded his grasp, and, mingling with the crowd, disappeared. 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. Good riddance. Run along while I rig up and get the part in my hair straight.
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