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. Jack Sheppard's Escape from the New Prison. "I'll tote the odiousness outside. ” “I can’t seem to get out of chairs without flashing my brassiere to the whole of Creation. “You have not feeling enough. Take my word for it, your troubles are over. " The attendant did not understand him.
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