A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty. ‘Hilary is a darling. She asked no further questions for the moment. "Is Thames returned from London?" "Not yet," replied the other; "but I expect him every minute. This forthright dame was so excited, she could not keep still, but paced about the parlour much as Melusine had done earlier.
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