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. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. Pull yourself together now. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there hadn't been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered my progress, I should have been beyond your reach.
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