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. I am a resolute man, and hitherto when I have wanted a thing I have got it; but I have never yet wanted anything in my life as I have wanted you. I hate children. "Don't ask me about it now. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. Her sister Alice seemed to have developed a religious sense away there in Yorkshire, and made appeals that had no meaning for Ann Veronica’s mind. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. ’ ‘Tchah! Better a doubtful welcome here than a confounded French convent.
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