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. He did not explain what had happened to her. Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter One In the quiet of an autumn afternoon, the deserted mansion slept. Damn! I’ve splashed. You mustn't go by what you read so much as by what you see and hear. ” At this point she had perceived that she was drifting from her subject. ‘I did not send you a card because in the normal way of things you rarely attend such affairs.
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