Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. “We have to get in, I think,” said a nice little old lady in a bonnet to Ann Veronica, speaking with a voice that quavered a little. 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.
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