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If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. ” “If you want to ask a favour,” he remarked smiling, “you have made it almost impossible for me to refuse you anything. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. 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.
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