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‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. 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; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew. There! You are trying to take your hand away. Your aunt liked the pheasant. . "That gown is getting shabby. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually.

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