” She said. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. For a moment she remained silent. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. Do I, Bess, eh?" "Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess; "nobody but me, dear. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. The barmaids had too strongly appealed to his sense of novelty. She is, in her way, a dear.
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