"I'd forgotten. Their minds are turned against him. 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. "She wouldn't let me go. "The doctor and I agreed to give you a chance—for her sake. Pretend to weep both of you as loudly as you can. In vain Wood protested his innocence.
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