” She wanted to feast upon him badly, his passion, his youthfulness. 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 accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. ” “I came,” Anna answered, looking her sister steadily in the face, “to hear all that you can tell me about a man named Hill. \"I could eat now.
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