" "Her ladyship will pass through it?" "Of course; there's no other way. “All right, Dunster,” he said. ‘Forgive me, Mrs Sindlesham, but do you tell me this inheritance that Melusine has fought so hard to recover is completely wasted?’ The old lady gave him a sharp look. 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. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents.
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