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. Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. Do you know, Ann Veronica, it is all a lie about your birth certificate; a forgery—and fooling at that. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. " "Fill your glasses, gentlemen," observed Ireton, "and I'll tell you a droll thing Jack said this morning.
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