Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. Do I, Bess, eh?" "Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess; "nobody but me, dear. . "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. The impassivity of her features changed at last.
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