‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. 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. ” Their eyes met for a moment. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations.
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