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. ‘Never mind where. Ramage admitted the force of that. I am out of your life forever, never having been in it. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. “It’s a great deal for a young lady who’s alone in the world, as I suppose you are at present, to have a respectable home, and I do not think in such a case that private apartments are at all desirable. She had been carrying them, he assumed, but then again the school had some particularly talented kids among the usual ruffians. I have written, called—of what avail is anything—against that look.
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