’ ‘None of your sauce, Alderley,’ rejoined the general, shaking hands with Hilary who came forward to greet him. 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. "I knew him at once. It amounted to two-and-twenty pounds. But, being pushed forward by his subordinate officer, he was compelled to make a stand.
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