What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. 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. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go. They unloaded Michelle’s sleeping parents who had been propped up in the back seat, necks craned against each other. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. " "Ah. He was not, in truth, much of a ladies’ man. “Come on in.
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