Giving him a wide berth, and keeping her pistol high, she made her way to the door and warily peered through it. " "Oh!" exclaimed the widow, covering her face with her hands. 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. ” Lucy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. “He is not—I don’t like him. He wanted her named Mary. " "Oh.
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