. She must speak to Jack. "Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest. 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. Not us. "Not so," replied Jack, throwing down the skreen. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. .
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