“Where are they?” She looked around. It was a simple wish. This person, whose age might be about forty, was attired in a brown double-breasted frieze coat, with very wide skirts, and a very narrow collar; a light drugget waistcoat, with pockets reaching to the knees; black plush breeches; grey worsted hose; and shoes with round toes, wooden heels, and high quarters, fastened by small silver buckles. His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. It makes wonderful sentences that you can repeat in the City and are good enough for Punch.
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