’ Mrs Ibstock’s lips tightened and she looked away a moment. “If only Sir John were not Sir John I would ask you to come and have some supper. Rank ingratitude, I call it. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. Opposite to her was a sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar. Do you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. “I’ve been thinking of you all night,” she answered.
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