Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. There is no need of your friend to kill you, imbecile, because I shall do so this minute. 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.
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