She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. “You’ve been sneaking out just as often as Mary Lucia. They’re too free for their innocence or too innocent for their freedom. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. 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. " The elderly domestic bowed, took up the case, and retired. “I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory.
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