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. His subconscious sensed the unnaturalness of it and recoiled. She had better escape if she can. Apparently he thought it very much worth while. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. Is this a reason?’ ‘Not good enough? Now I had every hope that it would appeal to you. ” He held out his hand obediently.
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