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. William Kneebone was a woollen-draper of "credit and renown," whose place of business was held at the sign of the Angel (for, in those days, every shop had its sign), opposite Saint Clement's church in the Strand. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. ’ He frowned again. She seemed bursting with the desire to talk, and watching for her opportunity.
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