So I come suppliant. 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. It loves to sit on your knee. . "Who've you got with you?" demanded the Amazon, boldly. "I need not ask whether this is Mr. “Lucy Albert. "I've proofs to the contrary," replied Jonathan.
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