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. ‘It’s my belief she is a nun. She was the first to hear another car approaching from the street, an odd occurrence in an elementary school lot that had been abandoned for the weekend. You will be wearing your travelling dress, and no doubt you would prefer it. I’m rather scornful. Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. “But how can you?” asked Constance. ” She grinned. ” “When?” “At tea. “I—I shall be all right directly. Michelle was only a junior, the same year as herself.
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