But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. “Turn me. He did make her perceive something of the acute, tormenting desire for her that had arisen in him and possessed him. ” “By God!” said Manning, making the most of the word, “I suppose it’s fate. 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. " CHAPTER XXV.
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