By that time it seemed to them they had lived together twenty years. 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'll be with you in a jiffy. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. Then she burst into a peal of laughter.
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