Maggot, as well as her companion Edgeworth Bess, was showily dressed; nor did either of them disdain the aid supposed to be lent to a fair skin by the contents of the patchbox. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. She almost submitted to this ending of her adventure. She could feel her face turning beet red. McClintock's astonishment merged into a state of mild hypnosis. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary.
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