“I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. 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. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. .
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