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. At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s. I am betrothed to Captain Roding, which is why you can’t have him, you see. Only you won’t let me exist!” Mr. Old Bedlam. Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew. You never saw him before yesterday. “Perhaps one talks nonsense about a woman’s instinct,” she said. A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. ’ A scowl crossed the lady’s face. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily.
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