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Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. 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 warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. Horrible memories of things seen beneath the microscope of the baser forms of life crawled across her mind and set her shuddering with imagined irritations. ’ ‘Charvill, then,’ Gerald concluded, unperturbed. Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties. We close the chapter.
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