’ He sighed. “I hope nothing is wrong. 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 had always loved babies, like you! We ran away to the Barbars, back then, the land of the barbarian North. Sheppard's house, "forward!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob, and the whole phalanx was put in motion in that direction. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for.
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