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. She throws a sort of spell over us all. For this three weeks had been the hardest of her life. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. “I would not have you go for anything,” she answered. ' It is signed JACK SHEPPARD. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee.
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