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. The villagers were thronging to church. Suffer me to precede you. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. Never mind. 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.
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