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. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow. ‘Oh, are there? You are not quite alone in these adventures of yours, I take it. "When I heard of your escape, I felt sure I should see you. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind. .
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