She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. 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. " "What makes you think he has had a hard knock?" "I'm a doctor, young lady.
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