Then they dressed her in a dirty dress of coarse serge and a cap, and took away her own clothes. “You are a miracle! God spares few from the Pestilence. "Do you still refuse to make one!" "I have made one," replied Lady Trafford. ’ ‘No, no,’ the other lady assured her with a twinkle. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. ’ ‘Damnation!’ Gerald burst out, crossing towards her. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August.
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