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. He savored the last solo, the coda. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me dreadfully to do it. On seeing it, he'll deliver you a box, which it will unlock, and in which you'll find a matter of fifty guineas and a few trinkets. There is no other way. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy.
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