He can't play cards, either, when he's sober. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. Blood, they say, won't come out. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. . " "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't.
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