He turned just in time to see Lucilla exchange an amused look with Hilary. She spoke with many other high schoolers while reveling in her new popularity. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. 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.
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