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. "Do you not know me, father?" said the young man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping his hand. This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux. I felt—I felt living in a masked world.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 30-05-2024 12:46:08
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