"Oh, poor soul, do let her have her Things!" The captain's inexorable forefinger pointed to a corner of the room--dropped slowly as his wife retired before it--and suddenly stopped at the region of her shoes.
"Do I hear a clapping on the floor!" exclaimed Captain Wragge, with an expression of horror.

"Yes; I do.

Down at heel again! The left shoe this time.

Pull it up, Mrs.Wragge! pull it up!--The chaise will be here to-morrow morning at nine o'clock," he continued, addressing Magdalen.
"We can't possibly venture on claiming your box.

There is note-paper.
Write down a list of the necessaries you want.