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’s little more than a schoolgirl, just out. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. No idea that you were here, though. "What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest. See paragraph 1. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing.
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