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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. ” “That’s rather the theory now,” said Ann Veronica. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. It has something to do with the fact that my Mom had them when she was only seventeen. “I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow morning,” he said.
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