He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all. 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. She’ll have to wait for dinner,” he said, uncomfortably. . There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited.
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