"Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. " "And what should a young man like this one have to forget?" Prudence demanded to know. "Thumping; but that's only excitement. \"Do you mind if I sit with you?\" He asked as he followed her. For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. 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.
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