“You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. Mr. 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. CHAPTER XV. Ever since the young police officer had arrived on her doorstep the clock had started ticking faster. I shall lose my fees and the laced coat. "Here's a cross-bite.
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