"Get from under it, Jack!" vociferated Thames. Then she went below. Her sister had told him that it was true. 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. Lucy felt herself go very red in the cheeks and lowered her hand rather slowly. "Your uncle, Sir Rowland?" "It is no idle boasting," replied the other. There was another little thing he had to say.
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