‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. ” He said to her with as much casualness as he could muster. ” “Poor you!” said Ann Veronica. 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.
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