She was too late. “A most wonderful likeness, too. 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. 7. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. A question next arose whether the prisoner could be executed under the existing warrant,—some inclining to one opinion, some to another. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. ‘Who telled you that?’ ‘Do not ask me impertinent questions, but only go you and fetch this daughter here to me.
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