She turned and looked at the red LED of the alarm clock that read 3:55. You shall hear from me to-morrow. 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. And Doctor Ralph stood by looking considerate. "Pursue him," cried Thames to the attendants, "and see that he does not escape.
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