She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. 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. Gave me a purse, and told me to take both of ’em up to Harwich and put them on a packet for Holland.
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