“The next question, Miss Anna,” he said, “is how am I to help you? I am wholly at your disposal. I followed you in. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. “I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. 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. " Spurlock grew limp in his chair.
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