. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. ’ ‘Exactement. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. 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. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts.
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