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. The Wastrel did not relish this. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. An old man and a young girl, the one as stubbornly offensive as the other. But the big job for you is yet to come. Ever since he came here, three months ago, he has been the life and soul of the place; and now the death warrant has arrived, instead of being cast down, as most men would be, and as all others are, he's gayer than ever. "Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal.
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