These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. ’ ‘Ah, that is easy,’ she began, laughing. "That's false!" cried Mrs. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. We're to be given a treat to-night. " "Do you want me to tell her that I am grateful?" "Well, aren't you?" "I don't know; I really don't know.
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