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. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey. She had never thought of him at all in that way before.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 17:49:51
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