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. “A joke! Sir John, if you had presented yourself here an hour ago we should have greeted you in pained silence. McClintock will be tuning up the piano to-day. In the beginning it was a dictionary.
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