Mrs Sindlesham raised her brows. 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. ToC London, at the period of this history, boasted only a single bridge. "Oh, you're here, are you?" said the ruffian, with an exulting laugh: "I've been looking for you everywhere. It was no wonder Gianfrancesco had looked up to Sebastian so, the doctor’s nature radiated masterfulness and dominance.
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