I was the last on board. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. 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. But the fall was too great, and he abandoned the attempt. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. "I am utterly lost. “This is much the cheapest place I know of where things are moderately clean, and I should hate rooms all by myself. Sheppard had been interred. Ennison.
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