He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. 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. She was as fair as the lily of the lotus. The first was to break a dinner engagement. " "I'm not afraid, mother," said the little girl, smelling at the bouquet. I understand. I wanted the time with you. Not up here, I think. She began to act.
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