’ Rather to his surprise, she obeyed this injunction as he led her up two flights of stairs to the first floor. 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 the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile.
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