Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. "Let us hope that, like her who 'loved much,' her sins are forgiven her. 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 completest capitulation would not wipe out that trouble.
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