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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"No Name"

Speak to her--and she drifts miles away from you directly. Mrs.
Wragge!"
Mrs. Wragge instantly acknowledged the stimulant. "Tea, captain?" she
inquired, for the second time.
"Put your cap straight!" shouted her husband. "I beg ten thousand
pardons," he resumed, again addressing himself to Magdalen. "The sad
truth is, I am a martyr to my own sense of order. All untidiness, all
want of system and regularity, cause me the acutest irritation. My
attention is distracted, my composure is upset; I can't rest till things
are set straight again. Externally speaking, Mrs. Wragge is, to my
infinite regret, the crookedest woman I ever met with. More to the
right!" shouted the captain, as Mrs. Wragge, like a well-trained
child, presented herself with her revised head-dress for her husband's
inspection.
Mrs. Wragge immediately pulled the cap to the left. Magdalen rose, and
set it right for her. The moon-face of the giantess brightened for the
first time. She looked admiringly at Magdalen's cloak and bonnet. "Do
you like dress, miss?" she asked, suddenly, in a confidential whisper.
"I do."
"Show Miss Vanstone her room," said the captain, looking as if the whole
house belonged to him.


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