In this way, they reached Holborn Bridge. 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. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. Come back with me to-night. I have never spoken of these things to any human being.
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