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. I did not want anything made smooth and easy for me. I am a little afraid. At last his voice came to release her tension. "Don't stir," replied Jack. Mr. Please yourself.
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