’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. Buck up. " He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers. Sheppard, with a look, the wildness of which greatly alarmed her companion. 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. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray.
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