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. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. 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. “My dear Anna,” he answered. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. ” She surveyed this sentence for some time before going on. ‘Well, sir, if I’ve to choose betwixt him and you, I’ll take you, no question.
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