270 “Curse that boy!” He chuckled and stomped the water. Wood. ‘I know, Melusine. 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. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. “We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said. She had thought of the lawyer who conducted the Remenham business, but she knew not where to find him.
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