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. Kneebone was attired in the extremity of the mode. The confirmed drunkard's mouth at length sets itself peculiarly; it becomes the mark by which thoughtful men know him. She pointed. “Drive towards St. . . She raised this with the air of a conspirator unmasking, and displayed a tear-flushed face.
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