“My dear boy,” she exclaimed. " Sheppard started to his feet. ” He looked at Lucy. “The most important is that I have a new admirer. 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. Immeasurable disgust possessed her. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. " "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger.
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