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“I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. 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. The ruffian's companions took his part. “Yeah, I know. E. His sister followed. So long as she stood beside him, he was safe. I thought one had only to take it by the throat.
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