" And before she could be prevented, she lifted up the cloth, and disclosed Shotbolt. 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. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. The sight o' your 'andsome phiz allys does me good. "Go on first with the light," he said. “I haven’t seen the new Patience, dear,” she said. ” There was a moment’s silence.
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