She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. " "Your ladyship——" hesitated Norris. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. Then she went back and mixed up the sheets in a search for particular passages.
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