She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. No one will ever love you as I love you now. We were only—les autres. 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. Sometimes he was obviously irritable and uncomfortable and unfortunate in his efforts to seem at ease. ” Or someone, she thought with disgust.
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