Dolby smiled. 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. " "You delight me with the intelligence," said the stranger, entirely recovering his cheerfulness of look. John knew everybody, it seemed. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time.
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