She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. 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. ” “But will you?” “YES. "The poor young man!" she said.
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