" "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. “This is not every day. ‘Ha!’ uttered Captain Roding triumphantly. 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. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. Sorrows and danger and disappointment she had known. She pointed across the road.
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