" "You had better write them for me, Mr. . There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. Sebastian drew over to her and lifted her chin from her chest. 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. ‘She wants you. "Is the governor within?" "Yes; you'll find him in the audience-chamber.
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