So far the thing was acceptable enough. 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. He kissed her neck, moving down to her breasts, trying to consume her with passion. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. He had heard everything.
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