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. “I didn’t know Mr. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. I should as soon think of trusting a woman.
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