1. 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. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. I wanted John to be proud to be seen with me. “Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice.
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