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 looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. I hate children. "But there's nothing more to see in Canton. But this is all different. Nothing at all. This lapse was possibly due to her apparent determination to make full protest of Hilary’s conduct. ” A sudden sense of the gravity of this thing came home to Anna. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. We’re going in. ’ ‘As a matter of fact, it isn’t,’ conceded Gerald.
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