It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. Mademoiselle has had no harm of me,’ Gerald said soothingly and bowed. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. 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. - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
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