. Mr. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. The change in her face was not a pleasant one. With nobody who cares … the both of us!" He was real in this moment. 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. But oh, how weary I am! I know. “Did you ever see women so weary-looking and so dowdy? They do not talk. Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous.
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