" CHAPTER VI. " "The very idea is dreadful," whimpered Edgeworth Bess. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. She stopped eating. ‘There is no one who could have told him this. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. Covered with houses, from one end to the other, this reverend and picturesque structure presented the appearance of a street across the Thames. ” Capes let his oar smack on the water. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike.
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