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. ” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. I was worried. ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. It was obvious that he had waited for her.
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