'Dash me!' said he, 'I really think that girl has a fancy for me.' Then he
examined himself minutely in the glass, brushed his whiskers up into a
curve on his cheeks, the curves almost corresponding with the curve of his
spectacles above; then he gave his bristly, porcupine-shaped head a
backward rub with a sort of thing like a scrubbing-brush. 'If I'd only had
the silver specs,' thought he, 'I should have done.'
He then began to dress; an operation that, ever and anon was interrupted by
the outburst of volleys of smoke from the little spluttering, smouldering
fire in the little shabby room Jawleyford insisted on having him put into.
Jack tried all things--opening the window and shutting the door, shutting
the window and opening the door; but finding that, instead of curing it, he
only produced the different degrees of comparison--bad, worse, worst--he at
length shut both, and applied himself vigorously to dressing. He soon got
into his stockings and pumps, also his black Saxony trousers; then came a
fine black laced fringe cravat, and the damson-coloured velvet waistcoat
with the cut-steel buttons.
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