‘I know her, ma’am, but I know next to nothing of her story. 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. After all, they’re history in the making. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me.
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