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. ’ Footsteps sounded just outside, and Captain Roding walked in. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. ” “It’s the perpetual trouble,” he said, “of parent and child. ‘Seems to me like you know just about as much as me. . She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils.
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