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We close the chapter. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. 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. ’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side.
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