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. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. “What did you say?” “Well, I considered myself justified in denying it,” Anna answered drily. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. “But it still misses the nucleolus.
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