’ Melusine sighed in a satisfied way. She needed to protect the baby. " "Where are you going?" asked his mother. 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. “John,” she said, “I am afraid that I am going to make you unhappy. "Ay, to business," returned Jonathan, grinning, "the sooner the better.
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