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’d have thrown this thing if you hadn’t stopped her. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. It was her job to keep the house as neat as a pin, up to the high standard that Sheila expected, being a nurse. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. This left Spurlock alone. Ramage,” she said, sharply, “I have to make it plain to you. Mr.
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