“A serious question. "I was going to die, Hoddy!" she whispered. Moments are ages now. ‘Lord in heaven, did I do that?’ exclaimed Gerald remorsefully. ‘Don’t be silly. 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. ” She laughed at him easily and mirthfully. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee.
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