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. "Bring him back with you. You and the girl have made it soft for him, and I'm going to make it soft for him. . "By all means," rejoined Quilt. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him.
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