Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. “You’re just a boy! You grow moody and spellbound, John, and the next moment you are ecstatic. 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. "Speak English?" boomed the voice. " "Well, then," returned the ruffian, "to put you out o' suspense, as the topsman remarked to poor Tom Sheppard, afore he turned him off, I'm come to make you an honourable proposal o' marriage.
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