“Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. 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. Good night. As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. ” The girl nodded. This is simply a chapter of coincidences. Dolby smiled. I get your side all right.
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