“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, pervert?” “Yes sir. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. The child has sprung into a youth; the youth has become a man; the man has already begun to feel the advances of age. Michelle opened the door to her the master 44 bedroom.
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