” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. 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. Glancing at each other, they rose from their seats and ventured to address the captain.
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