“I’m not a good woman. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. He smiled complacently. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. . " At the door of this tavern, which was situated on the left of the street, not more than a hundred yards distant from the church, the bell of which began to toll as soon as the procession came in sight, the cart drew up, and the whole cavalcade halted. "Come along, Blueskin.
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