"Let's try, at all events," returned the Amazon. "He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand. The perfume was the only one she ever used. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. If such a thing in connexion with him had been possible they would have declared that he was in a towering rage. ToC During the whole of the next day and night, the poor widow hovered like a ghost about the precincts of the debtors' garrison,—for admission (by the Master's express orders,) was denied her.
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