“All right so far,” she said to herself. He had no ideas about daughters. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. ’ She grasped the girl’s arm. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets.
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