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. There would be no mercy in this man. "You'll pardon an old woman, Miss Enschede," said Sister Prudence; "but where in this world did you get that dress?" Ruth picked up both sides of the skirt and spread it, looking down. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. " "And what might that be?" "Will McClintock take us both?" "You took that chance. She spoke slowly.
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