You take them. 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 was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the answers. He was entranced as she walked towards him. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. Upon this island whither he was bound there would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would be constant.
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