She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. 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. Voting wouldn’t do no ‘arm to ‘er. Maggot, whose nerves were more firmly strung, she contented herself with waving her hand affectionately to her lover, and encouraging him by her gestures. They had been so considerate of the earth they had touched that they barely left a footprint. "Good night, Master. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor.
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