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. "Enough!" cried Jonathan, eagerly pocketing the memorandum. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence.
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