Do I, Bess, eh?" "Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess; "nobody but me, dear. ’ ‘But it is stupide. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. It might be three yards in width, and a few more in length; but it was covered with ooze and slime, and the waves continually broke over it.
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