“Non. But David Courtlaw has been here. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. ‘If he needed sanctuary, it raises grave doubts about his activities. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. 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. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified.
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