"O lud! what an exquisite box!" cried Edgeworth Bess. " "Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. It may be, it probably will all come to, nothing. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. I'll dig it up.
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