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. ’ ‘It is so in a convent, you see,’ she explained airily. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. “Let me think,” said Ann Veronica. “That is my dream of you,” said Manning, warming. He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not.
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