“Yes. He recognized the face instantly. Even though you cursed your own existence, I had not been so joyous in a thousand years! Finally, he took the family and remaining servants away to the Manor. I cannot have my wife distressed or worried. 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 latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. Do you know that this becomes a habit?” “If you would only teach us all,” he murmured, “how to acquire it. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish.
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